


Drabble Event (March 2018)

by Vexatious



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones, Alternate Universe - Lamiatale, Alternate Universe - Mobtale, Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Breeding, Cherry bittybones, Drabble Collection, EdgeBerry ship, Edgepuff, Explicit Language, Fluff, HoneyMustard ship, Hurt/Comfort, Kustard ship, Mild Language, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other, References to Depression, Sexual Content, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 01:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 22,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/pseuds/Vexatious
Summary: I held a Drabble Request event onmy Tumblr, and these are the results.





	1. (Don't) Dry Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Requested: HoneyMustard, Swap Papyrus says something unintentionally hurtful to Fell Sans

“It’s okay to cry,” Honey called out to Red as the shorter skeleton walked away. Red froze, spine stiff and shoulders hunched.  _Finally_ , thought Honey, _a breakthrough_. He didn’t expect Red to turn around and face him, eyelights filled with rage and attack magic.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Red snarled, looking less and less like the skeleton Honey had grown to love and more and more like the Fellverse monster he really was.

“I said:  _It’s. Okay. To. Cry._ ” Honey didn’t back down. Red needed this. He needed to let go of his past. 

“You callin’ me weak?” Red growled, not letting go of his past at all. Instead, he tightened the grip on the universe that shaped him with both hands- then slammed those hands in the form of fists right into Honey’s face.

Honey didn’t dodge when Red lunged even though he saw the attack coming. Intent is everything, and though the punches hurt, the desire to harm just wasn’t there. Red knocked the taller skeleton flat onto his back, straddling him and aiming his vicious attacks at Honey’s face. After the first rain of blows, the flurry of strikes subsided. Red’s punches slowed, and weakened.

The wispy magic spilling from Red’s right eyes thickened and solidified into thick red tears, dripping from Red’s sockets like blood. At first Red tried to wipe them away as quickly as them came, but he couldn’t fight the rising tidal of emotions escaping him.

He gasped and began to sob, soaking the front of Honey’s hoodie in a matter of seconds. Honey wrapped his arms tightly around Red, pressing the sobbing skeleton to his ribcage. Honey managed to roll to his feet without loosening his hold. He grabbed a blanket from the couch before taking a seat, wrapping the warm fabric around both of them. Red cried for hours, clinging desperately to the one ray of hope in his life.

* * *

“THAT WAS SUCH A GREAT TRAINING SESSION, EDGE!” Blueberry’s bubbly voice proceeded him into the house, tall angular boyfriend in tow.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU MANAGED TO GET PAST THAT LAST ATTACK!” Edge congratulated the exuberant Blue. Their sockets caught sight of their brothers, sprawled on the couch, snoozing the productive hours (all of them!) of the day away as usual.

“Lazybones,” Blue whispered, pointing to them.

“Lazybones,” Edge agreed with a chuckle.


	2. A Cure for Laziness (Maybe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Something cute with Corny Lamiatale Bittybones.  
> Corny is a Classic Sans lamia bitty. For more information on lamia bittybones [click here](https://vex-bittys.tumblr.com/post/170479061791/lamia-bittybones-masterpost).

Corny bittybones are notorious for their laziness, but on one specific day every month every Corny in the lamiatale bittybones shop rouses himself and leaves his nest to gather at the front window. Today is that day. The first of the month.  _McNugget Day._

No lamia has ever known a love so deep as the wild passion that Cornies have for their McNuggets. When Vex comes into sight, toting the brown paper bags of crispy fried goodness, the Cornies burst into an uncharacteristic flurry of activity. Tails wiggle in the rush to be the first to greet her, hands raised to receive the treats like supplicants to a fast food god.

Vex wades through the sea of hungry lamias, and they follow her like a Pied Piper of McNuggets to the meet and greet area so that the food can be distributed. As each Corny is handed his fair allotment of nuggets, drowsy eyelights turn into stars. Soon only the sound of happy purrs and enthusiastic crunching fills the shop.

* * *

Corny bittybones are notorious for their laziness, and that reputation always proves to be the most truthful on the second day of every month. In the aftermath of McNugget day, the Cornies congregate with full, plump tummies to sleep in one large nest in the meet and greet room.

The shop is filled with outrageously loud snoring and murmurs of cleverly crafted and soon-forgotten puns. The lazy lamias press together, snuggled tightly en masse under their blankets, sharing their warmth and dreaming happily of the next long-awaited McNugget day.

* * *

Corny bittybones are also notorious for drooling in their sleep as they dream of future McNuggets. On the third day of every month, Vex mops the meet and greet room floor.


	3. Not Rain Nor Sleet Nor Driving Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A Honey Bo (US!Papyrus) lamia bitty and a Coral (UF!Sans) lamia bitty who are bondmates get separated by a very windy day.

The Honey Bo remembered the first time he met his bondmate, the sassy Coral lamia of his dreams. The red, black, and yellow-banded lamia had been grumpily biting a potential adopter who’d picked him up by the tip of his tail. When the rude human dropped the Coral, Honey Bo had swooped in to the rescue, catching the smaller lamia before he hit the ground.

Oh how the Coral had blushed, coyly turning his face away from his rescuer right before slapping him in the face with his tail.  _Love at first sight_ , as the Honey Bo described it.  _Handsy weirdo_ , according to the Coral, who had made no effort to escape. Quite the opposite- the two lamias ended up living together on the streets, eking out a living begging snacks from tourists at a local park.

Little by little, the Honey Bo won over his intended bondmate. He always had a delicious snack or shiny bauble to tempt the Coral’s materialistic side, and his kindness and cuddly nature won the Coral over emotionally. Everything was going well until the storm struck. The rain didn’t both either of the lamias, but the gusting winds seemed determined to tear them apart.

The lamias’ cardboard reinforced shelter couldn’t withstand the sheer force of nature, and when the protective covering blew apart under the onslaught, the Honey Bo and Coral locked hands, entwining their fingers to keep from losing each other. 

Their efforts were in vain; the wind blasted them, lifting them both off of the ground and blowing them in opposite directions. Unable to hold, each lamia watched as his bondmate got swallowed up by the storm. The Honey Bo collided with something  _very_  solid, and his vision went dark.

The Honey Bo woke up at a local lamia bittybones Adoption Center that he’d seen during his travels. The woman running the shop introduced herself as Vex and asked how he was feeling. “Coral? Where?” he asked desperately, not caring about his own injuries which included a cast on a badly broken arm.

“You were alone when I found you,” the woman told him softly. The Honey Bo chewed at his cast, thrashing wildly. He needed to get outside. He needed to search for his Coral! The woman made soothing hushing sounds, and he snapped at her hand. Coral might be hurt.

“Calm down, please,” she implored him, but he refused to listen. Curling in on himself tightly, he began to weep. How would he ever find his mate again?

The ringing of a phone exploded into the silence of the infirmary. Vex stepped away from the brokenhearted Honey Bo to take the call. After a few moments she returned, covering the phone to whisper urgently to the distraught lamia bitty.

“This call just came in from a bittybones rescue center. They received an injured Coral who was found during the storm. Do you want to talk to him? See if he’s your missing bondmate?”

The Honey Bo sniffled, nodding, and Vex held the phone in front of him since he couldn’t hold it with only one good arm. “Coral! Coral!” shouted the Honey Bo, drowning out whatever response came through from the other end of the call.  After a few moments of excited babbling, the Honey Bo looked up at Vex.

“For you now,” he stated flatly, pointing to the phone with a look of sadness and disappointment. The rescue center must’ve taken the phone back from the Coral.

After more discussion with the rescue center, Vex hung up the phone. She started to explain the situation to the Honey Bo. “He’s injured, and the center they took him to is very far away, so-”

“Go get him!” demanded the Honey Bo.

“We can’t. He’s at a medical center far away. We have to wait until it’s safe for him to travel. We can’t pick him up until next week.” Vex sighed, and the Honey Bo hissed sullenly. “You can talk to him on the phone every night if you can behave,” she offered.

The Honey Bo lamia counted down the days in whispered conversations with his bondmate. His SOUL ached from missing the Coral and swelled with joy when the day arrived that his bondmate would arrive at the lamia Adoption Center. He waited at the door, refusing to eat or leave his post until the rescue center worker came into sight, toting a critter carrier lined with soft plush blankets.

The delivery person walked into the shop, and Honey Bo rushed him. Laughing, the man set the carrier down, opened the door, and stepped aside. The Coral slithers out of his blanket nest, smiling shyly as the Honey Bo inspected him. Thickly padded bandages covered many of the Corals ribs and part of his tail, and a hairline fracture marred his skull right above his left eye. 

The Coral kept his hands clasped in front of him as the Honey circled him, sniffing him and gently touching his injuries. The Coral had never looked more beautiful to his bondmate, scar and all. The Honey Bo opened his arms to hug his mate, and the Coral mimicked the motion, finally revealing his stomach- and the tiny white soulling inside.

Honey Bo stopped a moment, stunned, before sweeping his mate into a hug that lifted the Coral off the floor, broken arm and all, tears of joy streaming down both of their faces.


	4. Flexibility, Love, and Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Fluff with a Chain (Swapfell Papyrus lamia) waking his owner from a nightmare.

Another happy day had passed, spent with the owner he adored. The Chain went everywhere with them because they were his world. Now it was time for the world to rotate on its axis from day to night, and the Chain and his owner prepared for sleep by completing their nightly rituals together.

The owner turned on the porch light and watched the Chain set off on his nightly patrol, sniffing for any danger and listening to the far-off conversations of barking dogs, spreading the days gossip about kibble and squirrels. Everything was calm and peaceful as usual, and the Chain slithered back into the house with nothing to report.

The Chain and his owner changed into their preferred pajamas side-by-side, doing silly poses and making faces in the bathroom mirror as they brushed their teeth. Chain’s gold fang flashed as he and his owner compared their pearly whites. Soon, they would settle into a pile of plush blankets and plump, soft pillows, but first they had one more time honored tradition to complete.

_The singing of the song._

The Chain had first heard the song on a cartoon show. He’d been snoozing on the couch and not really paying much attention to the flashing colors on the TV screen until he heard the melodic voices. He’d rushed to get his owner, dragging them bodily into the living room, but it was too late. They’d missed the end of the song.

The owner scoured the internet until they found a video clip from the show. That night, they’d watched it together over a dozen times, with the Chain’s tail wiggling excitedly every time his owner hit play again. The next night, his owner sang the song to him. He cried. The words, which had resonated so beautiful between characters on the show, had come to life, sung to him by his everything.

The Chain swayed as they raised their voices together, his low and husky and theirs pitch perfect. Drowsiness overtook his owner’s voice as it often did, and once the echoes of the last words faded from the room, they both dove under the covers, making themselves comfortable to sleep.

At one time, his owner had possessed a body pillow. but the Chain had done away with the competition fairly quickly. Now his owner became a small spoon nestled against the warmth of his body. The very tip of the Chain’s tail curled around his owner’s ankle as he held them in his arms. Every breath he took in his slumber was permeated with their comforting scent, and he could feel the rhythm of their heartbeat and the steady hum of their soul vibrating through their ribcage into his.

* * *

Frightened whimpers awoke the Chain from the depths of unconsciousness, and he sprang upright in the bed immediately, ready to battle the danger that threatened. Looking around he saw nothing out of the ordinary. The whimper sounded again, and the Chain leaned close to his owner, investigating the source of the distressed noise.

They were still asleep, but they shivered and cried out. The Chain realized they must be in the grip of a terrifying nightmare. They usually slept soundly and peacefully through the night. The Chain gently nudged his owner to wakefulness, and for a brief moment all he could see was their haunted eyes as their mind struggled to transition from the horrors of the nightmare to the calm of the waking world.

The Chain scooped them up easily into his arms, holding them tight as they buried their face in his clavicle and began to cry. He hissed out some hushing noises, patiently waiting for the fear and anxiety to pass. He rocked slowly back and forth, using his tail to wrap his owner tightly in the disheveled blankets displaced by their fearful movements.

The owner’s shivering increased until their entire body shook. Rasping sobs tore from their throat as a full-blown panic attack took hold. They simply couldn’t shake the negative effects of the dream gone wrong.

So the Chain began to sing.

_It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay_   
_You’ve got nothing, got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear_   
_I’m here, I’m here, I’m here_

Slowly, the trembling subsided. The sobs petered out into sniffles and eventually  a heavy exhaustion settled over them. The owner’s hands grasping the Chain’s nightshirt loosened slightly and turned into a grateful hug as the Chain repeated his very favorite lines over and over again until finally, his owner dozed back off in his arms.

_It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay_   
_You’ve got nothing, got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear_   
_I’m here, I’m here, I’m here_


	5. Bonds to Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A Honey Bo lamia bitty (US!Papyrus type lamia) going through the stages of bonding with a Coral lamia bitty (UF!Sans type lamia), possibly with an egg hatching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [More information on lamia bittybones](https://vex-bittys.tumblr.com/post/170479061791/lamia-bittybones-masterpost)

The Honey Bo lounged happily in his private nest. This was definitely the life for him- ample space to call his own, warm nesting materials, and plenty of privacy. He had everything he needed right here at the Adoption Center. What more could he ask for?

Every now and then, the Honey Bo enjoyed a bit of socialization. He’d slither over to where the Cornies liked to hang out and exchange a few jokes and puns with them. On one such day, he happened to slither past a Coral basking on a heating rock, and everything in his life changed. Something about the Coral sang to his SOUL. 

Courting the Coral hadn’t been easy. When the Honey Bo first sidled up to the drowsy Coral, the smaller lamia had hissed irritably and retreated into a hollow log to glare menacingly at the intruder into his domain. The Honey Bo hadn’t given up though.

Every day he took his afternoon nap in clear sight of the Coral. Even at a respectable distance, the Coral had hissed at him. Knowing how Corals liked to be irate with the object of their own affections, the Honey Bo felt encouraged rather than discouraged by the reaction. After a week and half of long distance love-hate, the Coral actually slithered over to physically shove the Honey Bo.

_Ah, first contact!_

The lackluster assault became part of a daily ritual for the Honey Bo and the Coral. The Honey Bo would curl up a bit closer to the Coral’s enclosure each day, and each day the Coral would hiss at him before slithering over for the traditional poke-and-shove. One day, the Coral stayed after a particularly listless bout of headbutts.

The Honey Bo feigned sleep, not wanting to ruin the moment with actual affection. The Coral, pleased by the Honey Bo’s passivity, curled up next to the larger lamia to nap. The next day, they shared the Coral’s heating rock for their afternoon respite with only a minimum of grumbling from the Coral.

The Honey Bo bided his time before making the next move. He and the Coral laid side-by-side, soaking in the soothing warmth of the rock, when the Honey Bo very slowly slid his tail over to the Coral’s and entwined them. The Coral turned to look at their tails, glaring fiercely, but the Honey Bo didn’t miss the blush that spread across the Coral’s cheekbones or the lack of a verbal reprimand.

The next steps to bonding proved to be a bit trickier for the lazy Honey Bo lamia. He didn’t hunt, and he had no idea how to acquire a flashy gift on his own, so he improvised.

* * *

Vex searched her desk with a perplexed frown on her face. She could have sworn she’d had a bag of potato chips stashed in the top drawer for midday snacking. She’d checked everywhere though and couldn’t find even a crumb of them!

The sound of happy crunching filled the Coral’s enclosure.

* * *

A Chain inspected his hidden hoard. Sure enough, a cherished piece of raw amethyst was missing. He sorted and re-sorted the pile of shiny stones, feathers, and polished coins. Nothing!

The Coral burrowed down in his blankets, rubbing the piece of amethyst the Honey Bo had given him with a contented smile on his face.

* * *

The Honey Bo was bursting with confidence for the final step in securing the Coral as his bondmate- the display. He may not have iridescent scales like a Mamba or a majestic hood to spread like a King, but when it came to singing and dancing, a Honey Bo like himself had talent to spare. He just needed to choose the right song.

The Honey Bo had “borrowed” Vex’s cell phone to set up his plan to woo his (hopefully) soon-to-be mate. He pulled up a video titled “Awesome FAIL Vines” on YouTube and gestured the Coral over with his tail. Fail videos- every Coral’s weakness! The Coral snuggled up to the Honey Bo while the larger lamia hit the play button…

… and “Never Gonna Give You Up” began to play. Hissing in mock outrage, the Coral watched as the Honey Bo danced and sang along to the music, waggling his bony brows like the lovable cretin he’d come to love. The Coral couldn’t stop his tail from waving to the beat, and the Honey Bo, pleased by the reaction, swept him up into the dance, spinning and dipping him outrageously.

* * *

That was how they ended up in their current situation- holding each other tightly as they watched their very first egg begin to hatch.


	6. The Krait Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Krait lamia bittybones (A Gaster-type lamia) and blankets with maybe some fluff.

The swimming pools situated around the Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center were all conspicuously empty. Not a single black and white-banded body parted the waters to seek the elusive dive toys or play skeleton Jaws with the rubber duckies. Not a single Krait rolled around in the plush oversized towels to dry his bones and ecto-body after a refreshing play session. Not even the baby Kraits in the nursery emitted a single peep.

Needless to say, the situation was extremely suspicious.

After several minutes without hearing a single beep or peep from any of the baby Kraits, Edgar, the nursery caretaker, decided to check the nest for the unnaturally silent babies.  _Surely such pure and innocent baby lamias wouldn’t be plotting something,_  one might think, but Edgar had been raising hatchlings for a long time. He knew exactly what the tiny noodles were capable of.

Sure enough, when he lifted the soft blankets from the baby Krait nest, he found it empty. Normally, he would panic at the sight of missing newborns, but muted giggles from the meet and greet area gave him a pretty good idea of where the little younglings had disappeared to. With a long suffering sigh, Edgar pushed the door to the meet and greet room open, and the giggles immediately fell silent.

Blankets thickly carpeted the floor, but bumps of varying sizes could be seen moving around underneath them. The culprits attempted to stay silent, but a few tiny beeps and giggles erupted from random blanket lumps, followed by shushing hisses and more wiggling movement. Sighing again, Edgar made a noisy show of checking the room, being careful not to step on any poorly disguised bodies. After pretending not to find anything unusual, Edgar left the room, closing the door firmly to allow the babies to have their fun.

Blankets exploded upwards after Edgar’s exit. Adult Kraits tickled the babies, sang to them, and gave them piggy-back rides around the room. The babies were bursting with joyful excitement as they chased the adults across the padded floor, peeping wildly. Once every baby Krait lamia had tired himself out, the older Kraits picked them up and carried them back to the nursery to tuck them into their nest under Edgar’s watchful eye.

Edgar smiled as the Kraits crowded around the hatching schedule affixed to the wall before leaving. They hissed and chirped excitedly as they pointed at the dates for the next Krait clutch to hatch. The Nursery Escape was a time-honored tradition that no lamia would ever risk missing.


	7. SOUL Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A Chain (Swapfell Papyrus lamia) adopting an owner. Chain lamias are unique because they choose their owners and form a strong SOUL-bond with them.

The Chain lamia yawned and stretched, greeting the mid-afternoon of a new day in no great rush. At his size, nearly 9 feet long, he had little to fear out here in the wild, so he was free to pursue the one thing that all Chains sought- an owner. Until last night, he’d cast about aimlessly through cities and woodlands, never feeling the tug of a compatible SOUL.

Last night, everything changed. He’d finally felt it, a resonance that went straight to his own SOUL, a deep and instinctual rightness that he couldn’t ignore. Today he started his search. Today he would find the SOUL that spoke so eloquently to his own. But first…

The Chain scratched his stomach idly. The magic of his snake body itched unbearably. Looking at the patterned scales, the Chain noted their dull color and rough texture. He couldn’t meet his owner yet! He needed to shed first so that he could look his best. Unfortunately, his skeletal hands could only reach so far. He managed to loosen and shed the magical skin on his underbelly and tail, but the scales on his back were maddeningly beyond his grasp.

Before he could set off on his hunt for the kindred SOUL, the Chain needed to scratch that infernal itch. The Chain had seen bears scratching their itchy backs by rubbing up against trees, so he decided to give it a try. Slithering up to a rough-barked tree trunk, the Chain backed up against and began wiggling his butt. It felt wonderful, and sensation of sloughing the used up magic was simply heavenly.

The Chain checked his reflection in a still pool. His body gleamed, fresh and clean and incredibly handsome. Surely his potential owner would be impressed with him. Now he just had to find them!

The Chain tracked the SOUL that called to him using a hot-and-cold method. He slithered first in one direction, then another. He traveled slowly, checking often, following the increasing strength of the resonance of the SOUL he sought. Time and distance didn’t matter. Only his future owner mattered.

It took some times to pinpoint the exact location of the SOUL. The Chain peeked into countless windows and even tipped over a overflowing trash can trying to catch a glimpse of that just-right person. Dogs barked and car horns honked as he traversed yards and crossed roads. He could feel the pulse of the SOUL so strongly. He must be close!

An open window beckoned to him. He lifted himself up by the sill to look into the house. A Commander basked in the sunshine streaming through the window. She frowned when his shadow blocked the soft golden warmth, so he ducked back down, afraid of upsetting her. Raising his skull just high enough to see without interfering in the Commander’s sunbathing, the Chain spotted more lamias living in the home- an attentive Mamba who watched over the Commander protectively and several young lamias that must be their children.

This home was absolutely ideal! The Chain felt his SOUL flutter with joy at the thought of a large family. The SOUL resonance here was practically palpable. This was it! This was home! He dropped back down to the ground, preening himself in preparation for his introduction when he heard the front door open and steps approach.

A human rounded the corner of the house, and before the Chain could say a word, she shouted: “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you!” Waiting? For him? The confusion written all over his face made her laugh. Her voice was like a choir of angels to his ear canals, and her SOUL shone for him like a million dazzling stars in the night sky.

“Vex said if we truly wanted to adopt a Chain, one would find us, and here you are. Come inside, and I’ll introduce you to your new family!” New family. That sounded so… right.

She was absolutely perfect.

And she was his.


	8. Sealed with a Hiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains NSFW content including DUBCON and breeding kink.  
> Request: Kustard with lamia Sans or Red going into heat

Sans remembered the day he first found the skeleton lamia hiding, half-starved and shivering, in the Echo Flower fields of Waterfall. He had no idea how the strange, gold-fanged creature had gotten into the Underground or where he’d come from, but the lamia’s face was startlingly familiar. If Sans looked in a mirror and used a marker to re-color his eyelights and draw triangles on his teeth, he and the lamia could’ve been twins.

Their similarities awoke a deep sympathy in Sans, and he’d reached out to the frightened lamia only to receive a nasty bite on his hand, and a very angrily hissed “fuck you!” No surprise there- the lamia’s appearance screamed Fell monster, from the perpetually downturned bone brows to the cherry-red magic color. Being from a Fell universe didn’t make the lamia undeserving of compassion though, so Sans teleported away to find the feral monster some food.

If the lamia was anything like him, Sans knew he would enjoy some fresh fries from Grillby’s. He grabbed a handful of ketchup packets and the brown paper bag full of hot greasy french fries and teleported back to the lamia, hoping the meal would calm the irate monster. When Sans arrived and presented the offering, the starving lamia tore at the takeout bag like a pack of ravenous snake-skeleton wolves. Sans quickly pulled his hands away to avoid collateral damage.

Ketchup packets went flying; the lamia had tasted one and found it not to his liking at all, flinging it away with a contentious snort. Stuffing a handful of Grillby’s famous french fries into his mouth, the lamia spied a stray packet of mustard which must have accidentally gotten mixed in with the other condiment. The lamia, who Sans had begun to call Red in his thoughts, ripped the packet open and slurped out the contents, searching around the tattered remains of the brown paper bag for more. Undeterred by the mustard shortage, Red inhaled the rest of the fries while mustard still coated his mouth.

Once he finished the meal, Red regarded Sans with hazy eyelights and half-lidded eyes.  _Probably ready for a snooze_ , thought Sans, kicking the trash to the side so the lamia had a nice area to sleep. The lamia’s jacket and t-shirt only covered his upper half, and Sans considered bringing some blankets here eventually to help Red stay warm. His generous musings were interrupted when the lamia, far more amorous than tired, began to rub his pelvis along the side of Sans’ femur.

“whoa there buddy, you’re  _snakin’_  me uncomfortable. i’ll come back with some more stuff for ya if you can behave yourself, ok?”

The lamia nodded, but continued to paw at the other skeleton’s basketball shorts.

“un- _tail_  next time,” Sans joked. As he teleported away, he swore he heard Red giving a low chuckle at the pun.

Over the next week, Sans made dozens of visits to Waterfall. He brought blankets for the lamia to nest in and plenty of food from Grillby’s. He’d also managed to get his sneaky hands on a large squeeze bottle of Grillby’s homemade mustard, which he refilled as necessary (and unbeknownst to the fire elemental) from Grillby’s backroom. Red loved the mustard and gifts, but his method of thanking Sans for the hospitality always involved insistent humping. Lately, Red had even begun to smell tantalizing. Sans knew the lamia must be going into heat, but he didn’t stop visiting.

* * *

“getting all this mustard for ya has been quite the large- _scale_  operation,” Sans greeted playfully. The scent of the lamia’s pheromones hung thickly in the air, but the lamia himself was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d hidden away to take care of his heat on his own after Sans rejected his advances yet again? Ah well, Sans carefully placed the mustard haul where Red could easily find it when he was done handling his business.

A weight crashed down on Sans without warning, pinning him to the ground. The hot aroma of monster heat invaded his nasal cavity as a low hiss sounded in his ear canal.  _Red!_  The lamia’s tongue darted out to sweep Sans’ vertebrae, coating them in thick saliva. One of the lamia’s hands made short work of removing Sans’ basketball shorts as the other monster struggled weakly, incapacitated by the allure of the heat-scent.

Using his tail to spread Sans’ legs wide, Red rutted the double cocks emerging from his cloaca on Sans’ tailbone. Sans whimpered, starting to protest, but the lamia slipped two fingers into his mouth, feeling the warmth and wetness of his tongue.

Sans moaned at the stimulation. With his mind clouded by arousal, he could barely gasp out a weak “no, wait-”

“YESSSS, MAKESSSS BABIESSSSS,” hissed the lamia.

“stop, i don’t want-”

A rough thrust from Red cut off Sans’ words. The snake’s double cocks entered him while his magic was still forming, squelching as they pried apart his narrow walls and invaded him deliciously. His eyelights rolled back, and he drooled as the lamia pounded into him mercilessly. The cocks were so big. He felt so full. At first he didn’t want it, but now he couldn’t get enough.

He begged in incoherent gibberish for more, harder, faster thrusts. He couldn’t even think as orgasm after orgasm ripped through him. Red never let up, propping up Sans’ pelvis and gripping his hips tightly as he slammed in again and again.

* * *

Sans had never seen so much cum before. His stomach swelled with it, and even more dripped from his gaping pussy onto the ground. The Echo Flowers kept up their lewd chorus of his screams for hours after Red finished. The lamia snored happily, curled around his chosen mate. 

Red wanted to mate with him. Red wanted to  _impregnate_  him!

The thought had him dribbling arousal in a matter of moments, and he shook the lamia awake for another round.


	9. Thank You Cherry Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A random bitty wandering into the Lamiatale Bittybones shop. Featuring King lamia bittybones (UF!Papyrus type lamia) and Rebelle, a Commander lamia bittybones (designed by a friend of mine )  
> You can find out more about them by checking out [my Tumblr](http://vex-bittys.tumblr.com)!

The Cherry bitty looked around at his surroundings nervously; he didn’t recognize this area at all! Why had he wandered away from the bitty shop without telling anyone? He’d been chasing a piece of dandelion fluff and lost track of his location. Now he was lost, and nobody would ever find him! 

Darkness closed in as the sun sank below the tall buildings. Everything appeared so much more sinister cloaked in shadows! The Cherry bitty trembled as he shuffled further down the sidewalk. What if there were stray animals hiding in the alleyways? What if nobody could see him down here, and they stepped on him? He wrung his hands in worry.

That’s when the Cherry bitty saw a lighted window! Oh, the light looked so warm and comforting. Maybe he could find a way to go inside! He would be safe from the elements at least. Maybe whoever had left the light on would help him find his way home!

The Cherry inspected the building, picking out the words Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center on a sign over the door. The door was far too heavy for him to move on his own, but fortunately, a doggy door hung invitingly askew, allowing the tiny, timid bitty access into the building. He didn’t know what a lamia might be, but at least an Adoption Center would be a safe place for a bitty to stay until morning.

The Cherry ventured into the shop, strolling down the main aisle and craning his tiny neck to take in the jungle-like decor. The shop was pleasantly warm, and there were plants everywhere! He stopped to admire some tropical flowers. Pretty! The anxiety drained out of his tiny body, replaced by a desire to explore in the safety of this exotic bittybones habitat. He hadn’t seen a lama yet, unless that was just a fancy word for plant. 

The small bitty breathed a sigh of relief… and bumped into something very large and very much alive. It was not a plant at all but a skeleton with a banded snake tail. Startled by the sudden touch, the King bitty reared up to his full 8 inch height and flared his hood with a hiss. The Cherry bitty screeched. A snake! A very big, very scary snake! Panicking, he ran.

He looked first left, then right for a secure place to escape the snake that hadn’t even bothered to chase him, but everywhere he looked there were just. More. Snakes! Big snakes, small snakes, snakes with a variety of body types and scale patterns, but each and every one of them was equally terrifying to the poor Cherry bitty.

Like a gift from above, a gentle voice called out to him “Don’t be afraid. You can hide here. We’ll protect you.”

He turned towards the voice, seeing a large woven basket overflowing with blankets and baubles. The Cherry bitty identified it immediately as a bittybones nest, and a beautifully decorated one at that. Pastel colored pins framed the entrance to the nest, and once inside, the Cherry bitty noticed a variety of shiny objects, bottlecaps, and retro posters hanging from the walls.

“You’re cute,” giggled the same melodic voice from before.

The Cherry bitty turned to thank his rescuer only to find that she was also… a snake? A lamia? He couldn’t take his eyes off of her though. She wore a pale pink windbreaker with white sleeves and dark pink war paint under her eyes. Her scales were striped in a lovely shade of rose, and she was snapping her fingers rhythmically as she watched him. She seemed so harmless and very pretty; he realized that he already somehow trusted her.

She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m Rebelle. Wanna join my gang?”


	10. (Not So) Terrible Owners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Underswap Sans owning a Honey Bo (US!Papyrus) lamia bitty, and Underswap papyrus owning a Cherry-type (anxious) Coral (UF!Sans) lamia bitty.

Blue bounced excitedly. He couldn’t wait for Papy to get home; he had the biggest and best surprise to show him! On his daily walk through town, Blue had stumbled across a Bittybones Adoption Center, and this was no ordinary bitty shop either because all of the miniature monsters were skeletons with snake bodies. Of course he’d adopted a Honey Bo, a lamia that resembled his brother with a thick bright orange tail.

The moment Papyrus walked through the door, Blue leapt forward to tackle hug him, but Papy caught him and held him back.

“hold on, Blue, i’ve got something to show you, and i don’t want you to crush him,” Papy explained gently.

“I’VE GOT SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU TOO!” Blue shouted, wiggling with anticipation.

“same time?” suggested Papyrus, reaching into his hoodie pocket. Blue nodded, fishing around in his scarf.

Nothing happened. The skeletons brothers awkwardly riffled through their clothing but produced no surprises other than their empty hands. Blue puffed out his cheeks in consternation. His new Honey Bo reminded him of his brother already, disappearing instead of doing something important!

Papy chuckled nervously, taking off his hoodie and shaking it gently until finally a miniature Coral lamia fell out into his hands. Forgetting about the frustrations of his own missing lamia for a moment, Blue’s eyelights turned to stars.

“WOWIE!” Blue’s loud voice startled the lamia, who happened to be a nervous Cherry-type. The lamia bitty bit Papy on the hand in fright, and when the tall skeleton loosened his grip to check the bite mark, the Coral dropped from his grasp and scooted under the couch to hide.

“ARE YOU OK, PAPY?” Blue looked at the oozing wound on his brother’s hand in concern.

“yeah, bro, they’re only a little bit venomous,” said Papy with a wince as he carefully injected a small amount of anti-venom (included with every Coral adoption for just such occasions!) into the laceration.

“I GOT A LAMIA TOO. HE LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU, BUT HE DISAPPEARED SOMEWHERE,” pouted Blue.

“probably took a shortcut to my honey stash,” joked Papy, but Blue appeared to be lost in thought, bony brow furrowed in concern.

“WE LOST OUR LAMIAS, PAPY. WE’RE TERRIBLE OWNERS!” Blue wailed.

Papy swept the smaller skeleton up into a hug. “nah, the lamias are just getting used to their new surroundings. we’ll look for them later, ok?” Blue sniffled, giving a shaky and uncertain nod.

* * *

The Honey Bo yawned and nestled down into the laundry basket, basking in the warmth of freshly dried and folded clothing. He’d teleported away the moment Blue entered the house. Being adopted was exhausting, and he suspected that a prim and proper monster like Blue would have a stash of napping laundry somewhere in the house.

He’d just begun to doze off when he heard the sound of slithering scales approaching. Lazily opening one socket, he spotted a shy Coral bitty peeking into the laundry room, his gaze darting left and right as if suspicious of some sort of fabric-centric trap. When the Coral saw that the room already had an occupant, he started to duck out of sight.

“room for one more,” hissed the Honey Bo invitingly, patting the clean, warm laundry next to him with his tail. The Coral only hesitated for a split second before joining the Honey Bo in his warm nest.

* * *

Blue and Papy stood in the doorway to the laundry room. Blue had come to collect his laundry basket of clean clothes to put them away and discovered their lamias. He’d hurried to bring Papy over to see the scene for himself. The skeleton brothers quietly watched as their two newly-adopted bittybones napped together, bodies pressed close and tails loosely entwined.

“We’re great owners,” whispered Blue reverently. His eyelights morphed into shimmering stars.

“sure are,” agreed Papy, snapping a quick picture of the dozing duo with his phone. Neither lamia stirred.

The freshly cleaned clothing never did find its way to Blue’s drawer and Papy’s bedroom floor, but it did eventually become the home of a small clutch of lamia bittybones eggs.


	11. A Smitten Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Reader x Mobtale Sans where reader is a server at Grillby's

You’d only been working for Grillby for a week, and you already had a crush on one of his regulars. The fire elemental ran a speakeasy, and none of the customers spoke easier than the skeleton mobster that everyone simply called Sans. Not that he’d spoken directly to you. You doubted he even noticed the shy wallflower server who dropped off drinks at nearby tables, too nervous to actually approach him and say hello.

Today you’d been assigned the table right next to Sans’ corner booth. From your vantage point dropping off martini glasses filled with colorful cocktails and plates of steaming extra crispy french fries, you could hear him exchanging some skeleton puns with another waiter. You chuckled at some particularly clever wordplay. He saw you eavesdropping and gave you a saucy wink that startled you into upending an entire tray of drinks into another customer’s lap.

The man rose from his seat with an angry shout. The patrons of the secret bar ranged from affluent politicians to violent musclebound goons, and based on his tone and upraised fist, the man you’d angered was one of the latter. You cowered, too frightened by his outburst to even flee. His fist descended, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the blow.

_PING!_

You waited. Nothing happened. You finally opened one eye to see what was going on. Sans stood in front of you, facing the guy who’d intended to strike you. He had the burly thug pinned to the wall, SOUL glowing blue through his shirt. Your attacker easily stood two feet taller than the skeleton, but he looked terrified as babbled apologies spilled from his mouth.

“you ever come back here, and you’re gonna have a real bad time, capice?” Sans growled, releasing the man’s SOUL so he could crawl towards the door on his hands and knees.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“and don’t forget to apologize to the lady, pal,” Sans ordered, tapping his cigar and letting the ashes swirl around him though there was no breeze to stir the stale air of the dimly lit room.

“S-sorry, Miss,” the man stammered before making a hasty escape out the back door.

Sans turned to you and for a brief moment you saw pale blue and yellow magic flashing in his left socket before it faded away to his normal white eyelights. “you ok, kitten?”

You nodded, too shaken to risk speaking. He sat back down in his booth and patted the seat next to him. “I can’t,” you said, voice barely a whisper. “I’m working.”

“eh, Grillbz won’t mind, we go way back,” he reassured you. You had no other arguments, so you sat next to him. He spent the rest of your shift regaling you with stories and one terrible joke after another until you laughed so hard that you had tears in your eyes.

When he finally got up to leave, you saw a bundle of cash drop onto the cushioned sat behind him. You picked it up. You’d never held so much money in your life, but you knew it wasn’t yours to keep even if a mobster like Sans had cash like this to spare. You called after him, and he turned to face you with his ever-present smile, though it looked softer than usual at the corners- a genuine smile perhaps?

“You dropped your bankroll,” you explained

“not mine,” he stated flatly. “consider it an apology for distracting you at work.” He teleported away before you could even sputter a thank you.

* * *

You became Sans’ regular server after that. Whenever he showed up, all of the other customers in your section seemed to simply vanish, leaving you plenty of alone time with him. You learned of his love of Grillby’s homemade ketchup slathered over french fries, and he even convinced you to try the soggy treat.

The more time you spent with the short skeleton mobster, the more you liked him. You wished you were brave enough to just tell him how you felt, but courage wasn’t your strong suit. Maybe someday…

* * *

You were clearing tables, waiting for Sans’ usually extremely punctual arrival when he staggered through the door, splattered with bright crimson blood and clutching his ribcage. You rushed to his side, calling for someone to bring medical supplies or call a doctor. You helped him to his usual booth, the one he’d shared with you on the fateful day you’d first made contact. You tried to lift his shirt to see the wound, but he pushed your hands away.

“‘m fine, kitten. ‘s not my blood, not most of it anyway. jus’ need a swig of Grillbz’s special ketchup to set me right,” he slurred. You were one of only a few, monster _or_  human, who knew of Sans’ single HP. You scurried to the kitchen to grab a bottle of the specially prepared condiment for him.

He chugged the whole thing greedily, then leaned against you. For a long time, he didn’t speak, and you wondered if you should take him somewhere- to a safehouse or perhaps a hospital. That’s when you heard it… a very quiet snore. The ridiculous skeleton had dozed off with his skull resting on your shoulder. Tears of relief sprang from your eyes and ran down your cheeks, dripping onto his face and awakening him.

“can’t a guy  _ketchup_  on his beauty sleep?” the skeleton joked, reaching up to wipe the tears from your eyes. “none of that now. i’m here, kitten, and i’m not going anywhere.” You’d never heard him use such a somber tone, but he soon resumed his carefree banter.

“how bout you n me blow this popsicle stand and grab some nice cream, eh?”

You can’t help laughing in spite of your tears. “Did you just suggest we ‘blow this popsicle stand’ to go to an  _actual_  popsicle stand?”

“sounds like a good first date to me, kitten,” he smirks, and how could you argue with that?


	12. The Cha(i)se

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Lamia Swapfell Papyrus courting an uninterested lamia Swapfell Sans  
> WARNING: This chapter is NSFW. 18+ only for this one please.

Blackberry was quite the handsome lamia, and he knew it. Of the eight skeleton lamias living in the sprawling, ornate manor, only his magic shone a deep and regal purple, and he loved showing it off by draping his bare bones and elegant tail across various pieces of furniture in common areas of the house for all to see. Today, he took up residence on a new, decadently upholstered chaise lounge in the library.

Black should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to show off without attracting his brother’s attention. Sometimes Black wondered if the lazy lamia could smell his lack of clothes. He’d assumed the library would be safe. Though the other skeletons frequented the well-lit sanctuary, Slim preferred other pursuits. No such luck. Slim slithered through the doorway and up and over the back of the chaise to slide sensuously across Black’s bare body.

“hmm, you look ready to get busy, bro,” purred Slim, who was also inexplicably nude.

“I AM  _ALREADY_  BUSY,” snapped Blackberry, waving his book in Slim’s face. “MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL AND GO DO SOME LAUNDRY. YOU APPEAR TO BE OUT OF CLOTHING.”

Black’s disinterest didn’t deter Slim in the slightest. The larger lamia moved across the room, finding a patch of sunlight streaming through the window to bask in. The golden dust motes shimmering as they played across his body, including his two erect cocks which he leaned back indulgently to display to the room in general. Black ignored him, staring resolutely at the page of his book, but a pale violet blush coloring his cheekbones gave him away.

“YOU’RE BLOCKING THE LIGHT,” complained Blackberry, still reading the exact same paragraph he’d been looking at when his troublemaking brother had entered the room.

“my apologies, m’Lord,” mumbled Slim unapologetically. Moving away from the window, he positioned himself lewdly in a chair directly across from his blushing brother and slowly, languorously stroked his twin curved cocks. Precum leaked from the tips of both engorged shafts to drip onto Slim’s hand. He raised his hand to his mouth, extending his long, forked tongue to lap it up.

_Insolent little shit!_  Two could play the seduction game. Black locked gazes with his brother over the top of the book as he let his hand drift down his body. He rubbed his cloaca enticingly before spreading it wide, showing off his glistening arousal. Black let his eyes drift back down to the page in front of him as he idly teased his entrance with two fingers.

Slim’s cocks ached for that slick, tight pussy; he couldn’t hold himself back. He was on top of Blackberry in an instant, rutting against his brother’s dribbling slit hungrily. He growled with lust as the sensation of his throbbing lengths shifting against the quivering folds.

Black punched him in the face.

“GET OFF OF ME, YOU DISGUSTING MUTT,” he shouted, but his back arched, pushing his needy pussy flush against his brother’s shafts, his body begging for more of that sweet sultry friction.

“i appreciate the flirting m’Lord, but if you’re trying for foreplay you have to hit me harder than that.” Slim licked his brother’s neck, causing Black to mewl in desperation. Slim lifted his hips, lining up their magic. As he buried both lengths to the hilt inside of his brother, he sank his sharp teeth into Black’s neck, lapping at the marrow oozing around his fangs while Black’s tight walls struggled to accept his massive girths.

“FILTHY. ..DOG,” Black attempted to rage, though his words emerged more as moans than reprimands as Slim slammed forcefully into him again and again. Black’s lustful cries and grasping hands belied his words, and his first orgasm had his hot little hole clenching and squeezing at his brother’s cocks in no time.

Slim didn’t even slow down.

* * *

Blue nearly wept as he took in the blood and bodily fluids soaking into the fabric of the chaise lounge. “UNBELIEVABLE!” he cried, gesturing widely at the destruction of his beloved new piece of furniture, now reduced to sex-stained rubbish. “I JUST HAD IT DELIVERED THIS MORNING, AND YOU ALREADY RUINED IT!”

“geez, Blue, if you want to join in, you only have to ask,” an unperturbed Slim offered.

Blue’s said nothing, but the blazing blush on his round cheeks was answer enough.


	13. Lesson Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Edgeberry hurt/comfort

When his science nerd brother finally got the strange contraption in their basement to work, it changed their lives dramatically. Using the machine opened a vast wide multiverse to them, and they weren’t the only ones. It seemed every Sans (and Swapverse Papyrus) had discovered interdimensional travel at around the same junction in their timelines.

Access to other universes so similar yet so different than their own provided a welcome reprieve from the daily stress the Underfell skeleton brothers experienced in their own version of Snowdin. Without the constant pressure of keeping up their dangerous and deadly appearances, Sans and Papyrus, whom the other skeletons called Red and Edge, were able to relax and forge meaningful friendships, like the one Edge had formed with Blue, the Underswap Sans.

Blue’s boundless energy and endless, unwavering optimism appealed to the world-weary Royal Guard Captain. Something about patrolling with Blue and recalibrating his extremely non-lethal traps made Edge feel things in his SOUL that he didn’t even have words for. In the Fell universes emotions were viewed as weaknesses and kept hidden. Spending time with Blue helped Edge to recapture his lost emotions, the ones he’d buried deep like happiness, trust, and perhaps even romantic longing.

Edge was certain he had a crush on Blue, but he also had absolutely no idea how to express himself to the smaller skeleton. The Great and Terrible Papyrus needed a perfect plan if he intended to woo Blue. Unfortunately, Underfell had a distinct shortage of Dating Manuals, so the feared and revered Guard Captain had to improvise.

So far improvising had left Edge standing outside of the Underswap brothers’ house in their iteration of Snowdin, practicing his flirting in mumbled undertones. Cursing in a way that would have appalled Blue, Edge decided to scrap the idea of dating for now. Maybe a perfect moment would present itself while they were on patrol.

Sighing at his own indecisiveness, Edge let himself into Blue’s house. The Underswaps didn’t even lock their front door. How ridiculous! Anyone at all could just waltz right in… and see Blue kissing the Swapfell Sans, Blackberry!

Edge quickly backtracked, pulling the door closed quietly behind him. He couldn’t believe his eyelights. Blue and Blackberry. How long had they been together? Long enough to be stealing kisses on Blue’s living room couch apparently. Edge groaned. Why had he hesitated? Living in his kill or be killed world taught him that hesitation meant death, but this feeling was so much worse. His very SOUL ached.

He’d become lax on his adventures to this innocent and cheerful place. He’d allowed himself to live in a stupid fantasy of something more than what he’d grown up in. He belonged in Underfell though; he shouldn’t have allowed himself to forget. After all, dusting monsters proved to be a lot easier than loving them.

* * *

Blue pushed Blackberry away. The sudden, unexpected kiss shocked him at first, but he refused to mislead Blackberry in matters of affection. The situation required a firm reprimand!

“I CAN’T RETURN YOUR ADVANCES, BLACKBERRY,” Blue explained. “I LIKE SOMEONE ELSE.” Blue blushed at the  thought of sharing a similarly intimate moment with Edge. Maybe today he would find the courage to flirt with the intimidating taller skeleton. In fact, Edge was probably waiting outside right at this very moment.

Except he wasn’t. Not that day or the next or the day after that, and he didn’t answer any of Blue’s calls either.

* * *

Red didn’t care whether or not the door was locked; he simply kicked it down, barging in without any sort of invite or welcome.

“where’s your little shit of a brother?” snarled the irate skeleton. Stretch jumped up from the couch, left eyelight blazing with orange magic.

“he’s been hiding out in his room for days because your shitbag brother won’t talk to him,” the lanky skeleton snapped back.

“of course Boss won’t talk to him!” exploded Red. “that asshole broke his heart making out with someone else!”

“what are you babbling about, ya gold-toothed idiot? Blue is head over heels for Edgy McFuckface. your brother abandoned him!”

“bullshit! Boss came home mopin’ after he saw your brother kissing Blackberry. he’s been walking around in a daze ever since, and in our universe, being distracted gets you dusted!”

Red and Stretch stood toe-to-toe, ready to fight, but an unsteady voice interrupted them.

“EDGE IS IN DANGER?” Blue stood halfway up the stairs, eye sockets rimmed in red from crying. “I HAVE TO HELP HIM!” The small skeleton darted out of the house and into the shed where they kept their multiverse travelling machine before anyone could stop him. He pressed the buttons hurriedly in his panic, but the machine whirred to life, transporting him to a Snowdin much darker than his own.

* * *

Edge leaned against a snow-covered tree in the forests surrounding Snowdin, berating himself once more for his mistakes. If only he’d said something sooner. He’d let the chance for happiness with Blue slip out of his hands, and he had only himself to blame.

They ambushed him there in the woods, his supposed subordinates. Edge didn’t retaliate; it didn’t matter to him. Red had so much dust on his hands from raising his baby brother, and Edge had fought his way to the lofty position of Captain, but to what end? The one thing he truly desired was now unattainable.

In Underfell there is no surrender. In Underfell, it’s kill or be killed.

* * *

Blue raced through the trees, shouting for Edge. He knew Edge’s patrol routes by heart from conversations they’d shared about the best types of puzzles to capture a human. They’d even bonded over a mutual appreciation for flaming spikes, but now Edge might be in trouble. He had to hurry!

Blue lacked the honed senses of Fellverse monsters; he didn’t need them in the safety of his own universe. The attack, when it came, caught him completely off-guard, knocking him to his knees as the silhouette of a burly rabbit monster loomed over him.

* * *

Blue’s frightened scream reawakened the warrior in Edge. A barrage of glowing red bone attacks soon scattered his own assailants, and he rushed to the other skeleton’s side, bone sword in hand, ready to rain vengeance upon anyone who’d laid a hand on Blue.

The scarred rabbit monster balked at the sight of Edge, an avenging angel in black and red.

“IF YOU SO MUCH AS LOOK AT BLUE AGAIN, YOU’RE DUST,” Edge snarled. The EXP-hungry monster wasted no time escaping the Guard Captain’s wrath. Edge’s prowess was legendary even by Underfell standards.

Blue began to cry at Edge’s sudden appearance. He babbled apologies and explanations as Edge scooped the much smaller skeleton into his arms.

“YOU DON’T NEED TO APOLOGIZE, BLUE,” Edge cut him off. “I MADE A MISTAKE, ONE I DON’T INTEND TO REPEAT.” In Underfell, monsters didn’t hesitate. Edge had allowed himself to forget that lesson. Never again.

Blue couldn’t even stammer another word because Edge’s mouth met his in a passionate and long awaited kiss. Blue’s sockets slowly closed, and he melted into the taller skeleton’s arms, the heartache of the past several days swept away in that one blissful moment.


	14. A Hot One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Chain (SF!Papyrus lamia) seeing his mate eat a popsicle the color of his... magic.  
> WARNING: Extremely suggestive

The Chain didn’t mind the heat, but the humidity made travelling outside more like swimming than slithering. He decided to cut his afternoon soiree short in favor of the air-conditioned apartment he shared with his owner. Ah, his owner. Thoughts of them never failed to bring a smile to his features.

He’d slowing been courting his owner for months now. Stage one had gone well, considering how much they loved to snuggle. The second stage of bonding had been trickier; humans had a tendency to get squeamish about being gifted with live prey. Instead, he’d “captured” them a freshly baked cinnamon roll from a local bakery, which they had, of course, gone back to pay for.

The Chain remained uncertain if the third stage of courting his owner had gone unnoticed. Like many Chains, he frequently presented his owner with gemstones or shiny objects he found on his daily patrols. He’d added flowers-but-not-from-the-neighbor’s-garden to his list of appropriate gifts once he’d seen how much they adored the colorful blossoms.

Soon, the Chain planned to progress to the display step of courtship. He just needed to find the perfect opportunity.  The Chain let himself back into the apartment, revelling in the gust of cool air that greeted him. He didn’t stay cool for long though, not after he caught sight of his owner.

They were sprawled out on the sofa in nothing but their underwear, which clung to them suggestively, soaked through with sweat. Their scent filled his nasal cavity. Once he finally tore his eyelights away from the alluring display, he noticed they were also eating something… something dripping wet and the same deep orange as his magic, something decidedly phallic. 

The icy chill of the popsicle had his owner’s lips puffed and glistening. Locking stares with him, they bobbed the frozen treat in and out of their mouth seductively, lapping at the orange mess dripping from the underside.

To add to the Chain’s sexual torment, they hummed as they pushed the popsicle down into their throat, much farther than necessary if they were simply enjoying the flavor. The Chain’s magic began to tingle, and his mouth watered with the desire to get his own taste of the popsicle, right from his owner’s mouth. 

They pulled the whole thing out of their mouth, pressing their lips against the tips before moaning in a way that made it even more apparent that they weren’t thinking of cooling down in the slightest.

The Chain could feel his magic manifesting.

His owner was about to see the display of a lifetime.


	15. Lullabies for Lamias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Edgar the nursery caretaker singing to a clutch of eggs and hatching them.  
> Edgar is a full-sized bittybones caretaker designed by damnedxfate on Tumblr. He looks like a Swap papyrus with owl wings and tufted owl "ears."

Edgar hummed happily to himself as he arranged the softest, fluffiest, warmest blankets in his nest. The next batch of eggs was due soon, and he wanted everything to be perfect for them. Edgar ruffled his feathers and settled down to wait. **  
**

It didn’t take long. Vex walked in just a few moments later with the latest clutch of lamia bittybones eggs carefully wrapped in a towel and placed in a basket. Edgar lifted the edge of the towel and peeked at them. Six perfect eggs held six faintly glowing SOULs. At this stage, when they were newly formed, the SOULs inside the eggs were barely visible, but Edgar had exceptional vision, especially when it came to his charges.

Edgar picked up each egg, gave it a skeleton kiss, and placed it in his nest. He could already feel the six little soullings reacting to his warm, nurturing magic. Ah, he loved being the nursery caretaker. He covered the eggs with his wings and looked down from his lofty perch onto his glorious kingdom of baby lamias.

The eggs required about a week of Edgar’s loving care to hatch. Each time he left the nest to tend to the growing hatchlings, he carefully tucked them in to stay warm and safe. Each night, once the other younglings were settled into their little beds, he sang to his new batch of soullings.

_Lullaby and good night_  
 _In the sky stars are bright_  
 _May the moon’s silvery beams_  
 _Bring you sweet dreams_  
  
_Close your eyes now and rest_  
 _May these hours be blessed_  
 _Til the sky’s bright with dawn_  
 _When you wake with a yawn_  
  
_Lullaby and good night_  
 _You are my heart’s delight_  
 _I’ll protect you from harm_  
 _And you’ll wake in my arms_

Seven days after they’d arrived, right as Edgar began the first lines of his nightly lullaby, he heard it- the first tiny peepings of new lamias ready to hatch! Edgar rearranged himself in the nest so that he could watch the eggs without impeding them. Tiny cracks spiderwebbed across the shells. Insistent little hands, eager to get their first breath of fresh nursery air, pushed their way out into the open. One baby hatched tail first, the small lamia coming into the world in a head-stand position.

Two babies beeped at their first sight of Edgar, wearing parts of their shells on the tops of their heads like hats. One of the new hatchlings exploded from his shell as if he couldn’t wait for the normal breaking-free process. Once they had all emerged, six small skulls turned in Edgar’s direction, waiting expectantly. Edgar settled back down into the nest, tucked the new Mamba babies under his wings, and finished their lullaby.

Edgar peered into the nest, hooting softly at the little ones tucked securely against his body. The baby who had made the grand entrance blinked at him with drowsy sockets, not yet fully asleep. Edgar smiled to himself. The pudgy little hatchling reminded him very much of his parents. As fair as Edgar tried to be with each and every baby in his care, he knew this youngster would have a special place in his heart.


	16. Little Bitties, Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Kieran bitty (four-armed human with black wings) and Honey Bo lamia bitty (US!Papyrus lamia) spending a day together.

You weren't surprised when your bittybones counterpart opted to stay home with his new Honey Bo friend; you did adopt the lamia to keep bitty Kieran company after all. Besides, Honey Bos aren’t trouble-makers, and neither bitty is really big enough to get into things. They reassured you that they would be safe, and you knew you shouldn’t say it but…  _what could go wrong?_

When you arrived home that evening from your job in Human-Monster Relations, you were pleased to find not a single police car or ambulance at your residence. The house had not been burned down, and the air was not filled with screaming. It seemed that your bittybones buddies had completely failed to wreak havoc just like the good boys you knew they were.  Unfortunately you congratulated yourself too soon.

The kitchen, when you stepped inside, smelled like a bakery and looked like warzone. A fine dusting of flour covered everything. Egg whites and yolks dripped from the counter onto the flour. The oven door hung open, spewing cinnamon scented smoke. Spices were toppled; cupboards stood open. Throughout the entire wreckage there were two very distinct sets of tracks- the footprints of a four-armed human bitty and the unmistakable S-pattern of a slithering lamia.

You followed the proverbial trail of cookie crumbs to the culprits, fully intending to punish them with a week-long dessert ban. You finally found them, curled up on your bed and snoring loudly. Dried cookie dough caked Kieran’s fluffy black wing feathers, and flour spattered Honey Bo’s entire body from his face to his hoodie to his tail. They looked exhausted but pleased with themselves.

Next to the two bittybones rested a plate of Snickerdoodle cookies. A note next to the cookies read:  _We made you cookies! Love, Kieran and Honey_. They had apparently done quite a bit of taste-testing too if their full round tummies were any indication.


	17. Feeling the Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A King (Underfell Papyrus) lamia bitty (full-sized) in heat getting some help from his owner.

Lamia bittybones, both miniature and full-sized did not experience heat cycles. Mating involved complex bonding rituals and displays that didn’t allow for such frequent bouts of uncontrollable sexuality. Somehow, though, despite the cold hard facts, the full-sized King lamia was currently experience a level of sexual tension that could only be described as heat-like.

It all began when he performed his final mating display for you, his adoring owner. He took you to a secluded outdoor area and performed feats of dexterity and strength, lifting heavy boulders and then smashing them to bits with his tail. He struck poses that showed off his sleek physique and kept his hood widely flared to show off the skull design.

You were delighted, so the King progressed to the final stage of his mating display- showing you his double shafts with a glow of smug pride on his angular features. Surely his length and girth, seen in stunning double, would impress you. You reached forward and touched them reverently, admiring the smooth, arousal slicked surfaces. You had even given him a teasing smile and requested to return home for a “closer inspection.” but nothing had happened.

You went to your room, and he awaited your re-emergence on tenterhooks, excited and nervous for your first time together. He waited… and waited. The gnawing of his lust wore on his patience, and he began to pace, slithering back and forth. Still nothing. The sexual tension was maddening. He could smell you, practically taste you, but your closed door barred his way.

The large lamia considered breaking it down.

You laid on your bed with bated breath and aching sex, hoping your lamia lover would slither through the door soon and take you. Just the sight of those massive dual cocks had you hot and bothered in the best way. The door didn’t open. You wondered if the big skeleton lamia had changed his mind. Surely he couldn’t have lost interest in the short time it took you to get home and undressed.

You opened the door a crack to peek out just as something large and heavy ran into it, throwing you backwards onto the bed. Your King! Seeing you splayed out before him like a delectable feast of willing flesh made him aggressive with barely contained lust. He pushed you down, gripping your arms tightly to hold you in place as he mounted you for the first of many long and pleasurable nights of lovemaking to come.


	18. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: A fire elemental reader in heat with assistance from a full-sized Mamba (Swapfell Sans) lamia.  
> WARNING: suggestive content, brief explicit language, implied sex

Other monsters had it easy. They could hide their heats behind flushed faces and lust-filled eyes. Not so with fire elementals. At the first sign of a heat cycle their your flames exploded outwards, increasing in both intensity and size. As if the blazing aura wasn’t embarrassing enough, the color of the flames also changed, like a huge neon sign that said “Horny as fuck!” Normally, you could just wait it out, hiding in your house and avoiding contact with humans or other monsters. That was before you’d adopted your Mamba though.

You woke up that morning knowing your heat was starting. That familiar burn and tingle couldn’t be denied. You tried to scoot out of bed before your Mamba got scorched by your extra-hot flames, but his iridescent purple snake tail had already captured one of your legs. You needed to untangle him from your body before you could escape. Reaching down, you touched his tail.

The sensation of excessive warmth made the Mamba moan softly.

The sound stirred your insides with a ferocious, quivering need. You nearly cried out. Your Mamba’s face filled your vision, and he inhaled deeply. His half-lidded sockets held smoldering purple eyelights as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

“Ssssso warm. Ssssmellssss sssso good,” he murmured against your skin. You could feel his small sharp teeth (not his long, lethal fangs), scraping over the sensitive skin of your jawline, followed soon after by the soft, warm sensation of his tongue. Your flames sizzled on his ecto-flesh, and he chuckled darkly. A tiny moan snuck past your lips but did not manage to bypass the lamia’s attention. His smile widened.

Your Mamba shifted his body over yours. He leaned in close and captured your mouth with his, boldly slipping his tongue into your mouth. His hands roved your body, feeling every curve and contour. His caresses were reverent, but his kiss was aggressive, and soon you felt the telltale double poke of lamia arousal.

You hadn’t gone through the bonding stages with your Mamba (yet), but he didn’t seem to care as he writhed against you, his sticky precum sizzling and sparking in every spot it touched as it dripped from his dual tips. His hands found your hips, pushing your clothing aside to gain access. You swore he hissed the word “mine” into your mouth before he sank his tiny, sharp teeth into your bottom lip.

You didn’t argue. You were his to take.


	19. Toys for (Lamia) Tots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Baby lamias in the nursery playing with the toys Tumblr followers leave for them as gifts.  
> [Click here](https://vex-bittys.tumblr.com/post/170479061791/lamia-bittybones-masterpost) for more info on the lamia bittybones (and babies).

A brand new day dawned, and Edgar yawned, shaking sleep from his feathers. The baby lamias in his nest as well as the slightly older youngsters who slept in their own nests next to his still snored on. Edgar conducted his morning inspection of the nursery, making sure everything was in its place. Tomorrow the baby lamias would be receiving their baths, so today, Edgar planned to let them play.

Visitors to the shop often brought gifts and toys for the baby lamias, and Edgar kept each and every item neatly sorted. Now he pulled out boxes of toys in preparation for when the babies woke.

Tiny sockets slowly opened, and little voices peeped in excitement for a new day of learning and playing. When tiny baby skulls popped up over the edges of little blanket-lined nests, a wonderland awaited them. The Mambas and Pygmies were the quickest, even as babies, and they made it to the pile of toys first.

Small stuffed mice and balls with bells in them went shooting across the floor as the pile of hunting toys exploded with activity. The baby Mambas and Pygmies weren’t nearly as coordinated as their adult versions and ended up scattering more toys than they caught. Fortunately, accidentally sliding into a ball and making it roll away from them just increased the fun.

The young Chains slithered over to join the hunting fun, enticed by the sounds of squeakers and bells. Edgar knew that even at a young age, the presence of larger Chain lamias would keep the peace between the tussling babies, so he started distributing toys to the other hatchlings who’d emerged from their nests.

The Kraits received miniature rubber duckies which they pushed around in their shallow play pool. The baby Kraits loved to splash in the water, and the shallow depth of the pool meant that they could be safe while they learned to swim. They floated the duckies back and forth across the pool beeping happily at each ducky that “won” a race.

A kind SOUL had dropped off a box of simple tangram puzzles, which the baby Papythons absolutely loved. They found the arrangement of shapes mesmerizing, and each time a Papython solved one of the puzzles, the others would crowd around to stare in wonder at how perfectly the shapes fit before returning to their own puzzles with more determination than ever. They beamed whenever Edgar patted them on the head for figuring out how to fit the small pieces together, and every single Papython managed to finish at least one puzzle that day.

The baby Kings beeped loudly in delight when they were handed their toy- a stuffed animal that read stories to them. Each King was handed a small copy of the story so that they could follow along and look at the words. Working together, the Kings pulled their reading toy into a secluded corner, shushing each other, and then shushing each other again because the shushing was too loud. Finally, the Kings all settled down, and the plushie’s voice filled the silence with fairy tales for the eager young Kings.

The Honey Bo hatchlings had to be escorted into a different area to play with their toys. Someone had brought them musical toys that lit up as they made different music notes. The tiny lamias immediately began making a horrendous racket by pressing every button their little hands could reach. Though the sound was jarring, the Honey Bos enjoyed it because they were making it. By the end of the day, they’d even developed a simple melody, which they hummed as they dozed off that night.

The Corals were gifted tactile board books. Their eager little hands brushed over the different textures. They “petted” a woolly sheep and touched a fluffy duckling. They poked the pebbled texture of a pig’s nose as they toured a farm across the pages with their itsy bitsy hands. Little red eyelights turned to stars as they explored book after book full of wondrous touch sensations.

The Cornies were not as energetic when it came to play. They preferred to observe as a form of enjoyment. A friendly shop regular had presented them with an amazing find, dropping off a spherical projector with a variety of slides showing different constellations, galaxies, and astrological phenomenon. Tiny skulls tilted to the ceiling to watch the Aurora Borealis spring to life in vivid color detail before them. The Cornies’ little mouths hung open in awe as they travelled the Milky Way and beyond from their blankets on the floor.

As the other baby lamias tired themselves out, they joined the Cornies under the “stars” For once, the other lamias fell asleep while the Cornies stayed awake long into the night, taking in the cosmos. Finally, every little noodle dozed off, satisfied by the days activities.

Edgar tucked the babies into their nests and picked up the toys, storing them away for the next play day. Tomorrow would be baths, but tonight, the babies slept soundly with little smiles on their adorable faces.


	20. Phoning It In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Full-sized Cahin (SF!Papyrus) lamia bittybones taking care of his sick owner.

The Chain lamia woke up before the alarm went off, allowing him time to nestle down under the covers and press against you to appreciate your wonderful heat. So warm, so soothing, so… hot actually. The Chain’s sockets shot open, and he frowned. You radiated such a lovely warmth that he couldn’t get enough of snuggling you at any given moment, but you were never  _this_  warm.

The big lamia sat up in the bed to look at your face and discovered flushed cheeks and a fine sheen of sweat on your brow. You also appeared to be dripping from some of your human orifices which was definitely not normal unless you were sad. You didn’t look sad. You looked  _sick_.

The blaring of the alarm clock interrupted your lamia’s inspection. You sluggishly sat up in bed, swatting at the alarm until the Chain smacked the “off” button for you. You tried to push him aside to get out of bed.

“Sick,” he announced.

“I’m fine,” you countered automatically, gently nudging him aside. Dizziness swept over you when you attempted to stand up, and your Chain caught you as you pitched forward. He placed you back in the bed, pulled the blankets over you and tucked them around you snugly.

“Sick!” he declared more firmly before slithering off in the direction of first the bathroom then the kitchen. He returned to find that you had stumbled over to the dresser to grab a change of clothes. In your weakened state, you’d barely managed to pull the drawer open.

With an indignant huff, your Chain set down the supplies he’d collected and gathered you into his arms to once again put you in bed. “Sick! Sick owner, stay in bed!” he ordered in a no-nonsense tone, frustrated at your antics.

“I’m fine,” you answered with much less conviction than before.

The only response you got from the lamia was a cold cloth to the forehead and a thermometer placed in your mouth. You crossed your eyes trying to read the numbers, but that just gave you a worse headache. Once the thermometer beeped, the Chain looked at it for a few seconds before waving it in your face too fast for you read the numbers.

“Sick!”

Ok, so maybe you were sick, but whatever your darling lamia had fetched from the kitchen- chicken soup?- smelled absolutely, sickness-curingly divine. The Chain allowed you to sit up in bed to eat. He even propped some extra pillows behind you to support your back. When you reached for the soup bowl with trembling hands, he tutted, insisting on spoon-feeding you to prevent you from spilling soup on yourself. He even blew on each spoonful to cool it before feeding you.

If you weren’t so sick, you might’ve found his behavior endearing. Once you’d finished your soup, you insisted on getting up again. You used every tactic you knew from claiming the soup had miraculously healed you to outright demanding that your lamia allow you to get ready for work. He shook his head at each fresh excuse.

“Call work,” he declared, holding up your phone and pressing the button for your workplace. You expected him to hand you the phone so that you could explain the situation to your boss, but he did not. Oh no, he had his own ideas about calling in sick.

“Owner sick. No work.” He didn’t give the person on the other end of the line a chance to ask questions- not even important ones like who he was calling for- before he hung up and threw your phone across the room.

“Obstinate noodle!” you accused, “You need to let me call in properly!”

The Chain just shrugged and flopped his substantial body weight across your lap. “Sick. No work,” he repeated simply. He scooted the TV remote over to you as well as a box of Kleenex for your runny nose.

You guessed you wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, so you settled in to enjoy your impromptu day off with your loyal (and extremely bossy) companion.


	21. Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A King (lamia UF!Papyrus) escaping a bittybones fighting ring. Full-sized King lamias are incredibly large, and the one named Waffle who lives at the adoption center is 14 feet total length (about 7 feet tall in a "standing" position).

There comes a time in every young lamia’s life when he is ready to leave the nest and venture forth into the world. Every lamia parent tries to raise their hatchlings to be prepared for all of the wonders and dangers that await beyond the nest, but some things must be learned through experience. The young King lamia that left his hatching grounds that day had no idea what lessons the wide world had in store for him.

The young lamia explored a park near the forest where he’d been born, and he met his first human in the picnic area, sitting on a bench and eating some kind of human snack. Spotting the hungry young King, the man smiled and reached into the crinkly bag to offer the King some of his food. Wary, but too curious to reject the interesting food item, the King took the small item handed to him and popped it into his mouth.

The creamy outside of the treat melted away into a sweet and tart interior. The yogurt covered cranberry tasted amazing! The man laughed when he saw the look of joy on the young lamia’s face and patted the seat next to him. The King climbed up onto the bench, and he and the human finished off the bag of sweet goodness together.

Once they’d finished eating, the man pulled another treat out of his pocket and held it out to the King. The young monster ate it without hesitation. Salty bitterness exploded on his tongue. He turned to the man with a bewildered stare, but his vision swam. His body felt numb and heavy. Weakness overtook him, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

With a dark chuckle the man picked up the helpless lamia and carried him to a van where he secured a muzzle over the King’s mouth and unceremoniously tossed him into a small cage. The human got into the van and drove away with nearly a dozen bittybones of various sizes, drugged and immobile, imprisoned in his vehicle.

* * *

The King awoke slowly. His movements remained sluggish long after his sockets opened to the horrors of his new surroundings. He’d been relocated to a rickety shed with a dirt floor and cages stacked from floor to ceiling occupied by other bittybones of many different species. All of them bore injuries in the form of scars or weeping wounds, and every pinched, miserable face held a desperate, hungry gaze.

Rage stirred in the pit of the King lamia’s stomach. He wanted to lash out, to punish the disgusting humans who had treated these monsters so inhumanely. He swallowed it down. At his age he could never summon the magic necessary to fight a human. At his size, he was still small enough to be overpowered. He needed to think, to act intelligently instead of rashly.  His first act of defiance involved removing the muzzle from his face, which proved more difficult than he anticipated. Unfastening leather straps that buckled behind his head where he couldn’t see them proved to be a formidable task.

Once the muzzle was removed, the King cast it aside and investigated the cage that held him.Metal made up the framework of the cage, and the walls, front, and bottom appeared to be some type of wire lattice. The King pressed against it, and it gave slightly. He pressed again, and it gave slightly more.

Running his hands along the floor of the cage where the mesh connected to the framework, he found a weak point and began to slam his tiny fists into it, clawing and biting as he tore the mesh away from the frame of the cage. He didn’t have much time; he could hear movement outside the shed. Frantically, the King pried the small opening he’d made as wide as he could.

The door to the shed opened, spilling overly bright sunlight onto the abused bittybones and illuminating the center of the floor where a deep line had been scored. Blood splatters stained the dust in the makeshift ring. The humans were running a bittybones fighting ring! Three men pushed through the narrow doorway, shouting when they noticed the hole the King had made in his cage.

Time had run out. The King quickly slithered through the opening, but the tight fit caused the metal wires to rake across his flesh, tearing a jagged zigzag wound into his tail. Like a bolt of lightning with a flared hood and bared, venom-filled fangs, the King charged his captors who leapt aside to avoid his potentially deadly bite. They didn’t even realize that he didn’t possess enough venom at his current size to kill them. Foolish cowards.

The King knew he didn’t have time to free the other bitties trapped in the deplorable conditions, but he’d heard stories of a Lamia Bitty Adoption Center since he’d first emerged from his egg. His favorite stories had involved Waffle, a gigantic King lamia who defended the weak. He vowed to find Waffle and end the illicit bittybones fighting ring for good.

* * *

Deep in woodlands there lives a colony of wild bittybones. Many species in a range of sizes congregate together far away from humans’ prying eyes. Each and every bitty there has scars, physical and emotional, and none of them desire a human master.

Guarding this colony is a King lamia, second in size only to the infamous Waffle, and he can be easily identified, if not by his noteworthy size, by the lightning bolt scar zigzagging down his tail.


	22. The Least of Your Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: a drabble based on [these screenshots](https://hellodragonkit.tumblr.com/post/171360738036/uselessundertalefacts-tfw-papyrus-is-so-brutal) from the Undertale game. (SFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bumping up the rating of this drabble set because there are just a few too many NSFW sections for me to feel comfortable leaving it "Teen and Up."

You stood in front of the door of your former, not-very-human-proof prison cell in Snowdin. You remembered it not so much fondly as with the growing frightening realization that monsters had some very unusual ideas about hospitality that included keeping members of your own species as pets and lighting your own house on fire while making spaghetti. Ah, you treasured those precious memories of your burgeoning friendships.

The friends in question were making small talk just a few feet away from you; it was impossible not to overhear Papyrus’ overly exuberant voice whether it was directed at you or not, but in this case, his words were meant for you… and everyone else within hearing distance, including Undyne.

“READY FOR ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE PUNISHMENT SHACK?” he asked sincerely. He honestly thought you wanted to curl back up in your smelly dog bed in front of the fire and play the captured human again. His contagious enthusiasm softened the offhand invitation to return to your strange incarceration.

“Oh my GOD,” howled Undyne, “I don’t even wanna KNOW!” Considering that she’d chased you halfway through the Underground while stabbing at you with magical spears, her outrage was a bit misplaced. Fortunately, she’d come around to the idea of not impaling friendly kind-hearted children, so that worked out in your favor.

“DON’T BE SO JUDGEMENTAL, UNDYNE,” Papyrus scolded, “MY SHACK IS A FOUR-STAR ESTABLISHMENT.” He posed proudly with one hand on his chest and his scarf billowing out behind him despite the lack of any sort of breeze. You held back a snort, remembering your stay. You didn’t even have to say anything though.

“Wait, lemme guess. Sometimes you cut a hot dog into the dog food, right?” Undyne roared with laughter as you and Papyrus stood there, staring at her blankly.

“WHAT!?!? HOW’D YOU KNOW?” Papyrus talk-shouted into the uncomfortable silence. You avoided eye contact with both of them as the humor faded from Undyne’s face.

“Oh my God, no! I was joking!!” Undyne’s shock morphed into a look of consideration.

Papyrus had protested the King’s ban on spikes, insisting that children love spikes, the more deadly the better. Papyrus loved making traps that involved fire because it played to his flair for the dramatic. It was also the reason he built his elaborate puzzles outside of Snowdin Town. Papyrus hand painted a realistic bridge to create a more aesthetically pleasing Deadly Gauntlet to capture whatever might be left of the human once they’d passed through it.

Honestly, feeding the captive human dog food (with hot dogs) ranked pretty low on any list of shocking Papyrus ideas. Besides, it probably tasted better than his spaghetti.


	23. Handywork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Edgepuff assisted masturbation and blowjob  
> WARNING: NSFW, explicit language, strong sexual content

Papyrus never guessed that coming to the Surface would mean sharing a house with more than just his brother. The high demand for monster-friendly real estate, coupled with the limited supply of small private residences forced the skeleton brothers to take on a few roommates. It turned out they weren’t the only new skeletons in town either. Papyrus and Sans ended up cohabiting with two pairs of nearly identical versions of themselves from very different universes.

Sharing a house, no matter the size, with five other monsters afforded the skeletons very little in the way of private time. The house was perpetually noisy and crowded, and three times the skeletons somehow ended up meaning three times the annoying dogs hanging around making messes and stealing valuable bone attacks.

Today was different though. Today each and every skeleton had left to attend to his own business from the lazy slacker Papyrus to the growly Sans with the red magic and the gold tooth. Finally, Papyrus had a day to himself, a day of peace and solitude, a day of rest and relaxation, a day to masturbate.

Papyrus never did anything halfway. If he decided to pleasure himself, he made sure the timing and mood were right. Pulling his curtains closed dimmed the room perfectly. Papyrus lit an array of vanilla scented candles he’d bought at an artisan craft fair and inhaled the rich scent. He seated himself on his bed, a proper queen size bed instead of a racecar bed, and gently coaxed his eager magic into his pelvis.

It didn’t take much to get the arousal flowing from Papyrus’ sensitive slit. He knew just how to touch himself to send those tingles all throughout his body. Using one hand, he carefully parted his puffy lips before reaching down with the other hand to slide his fingers across his slick slit.

“Nice,” purred a low, husky voice from the doorway.

Papyrus yelped and slammed his legs together, hiding his conjured pussy even if the intruder could still see the entirety of his bare bones.

“Don’t stop on my account,” the edgy angular Papyrus said with a chuckle. “You looked like you were having fun.” Edge prowled closer, and Papyrus whimpered as the imposing skeleton stood in front of him, towering over him since Papyrus still sat on the bed. Edge slid one of his slender, leather-clad legs between Papyrus’ femurs and forced his blushing double’s legs apart to expose the smooth orange mound in his pelvic inlet.

“Or maybe you’d like a hand?” Edge offered, rubbing Papyrus’ hipbones suggestively.

“No, no. I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself. No need for outside assistance of any sort,” Papyrus insisted. Edge climbed onto the bed behind Papyrus, putting one leg on each side of the other skeleton.

“By all means, then, Papyrus, continue.” Edge watched over Papyrus’ shoulder as his hands drifted obediently back to his quivering entrance. Edge’s crimson eyelights radiated hunger while he watched Papyrus run his phalanges up and down between his delicate folds without slipping them inside.

“I can’t do it with you watching me like this, spiky me,” Papyrus protested feebly.

In response, Edge placed his hands over Papyrus’ and began pushing first one of his timid double’s phalanges, then two against Papyrus’ dripping pussy entrance. Papyrus continued to hold back, not wanting to simply cram himself full and pound away willy-nilly. He took his time! He treated himself gently! He preferred to let the pleasure build slowly, but Edge knew no mercy.

“You’ll never get anywhere doing it like that,” he growled. Edge entwined their fingers and shoved two of them forcefully into Papyrus’ needy hole.

“Wait, Edge. Edge-” Papyrus’ words trailed off into a lewd moan. He arched his back into the other skeleton and rocked himself against their joined thrusting fingers. It felt different. It felt so wrong to let another monster touch him there. It felt good.

Edge wasn’t careful. He didn’t take his time. His fingers, clasping Papyrus’ moved hard and fast in and out of the mewling skeleton’s tight little cunt. Papyrus panted, sockets half-closed as Edge worked his pussy over with brutal efficiency. Papyrus’ tongue flopped from his gaping jaws, spilling drool onto his own ribcage as he felt his whole body tense up.

“Edge, I’m-” He never even finished his sentence. His skull tipped back, nearly slamming into Edge’s face as Papyrus lifted his hips and came hard, fluids gushing over both skeletons’ hands to soak into the once-pristine mattress.

Papyrus leaned back against Edge as aftershocks rattled his bones. Waves of pleasure continued to wash over his body, and he just wanted closeness to ride out the haze of euphoria. Edge had other ideas though. Pushing Papyrus aside, Edge stood up and unbuckled his pants.

“What are you doing?” asked a drowsy but curious Papyrus as Edge palmed his now-free erection. Sharp protrusions lined the underside like thorns made of ectoflesh, and the cock itself glowed an ominous dark red that danced and reflected over gold ladder piercings.

“I helped you. Turnabout is fair play,” said Edge with a wicked grin. The sight of the throbbing deep red cock aroused Papyrus in new and exciting ways, and he eagerly extended his hands to stroke it.

“No, Papyrus, not your hands. You’re going to pleasure me with your mouth.”

Papyrus gulped, then opened his mouth wide.


	24. Brothers from Another Mother (and Species)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A platonic brotherly bond with a King (Underfell Papyrus lamia) and Coral (Underfell Sans lamia) in which someone acts aggressively toward the owner and lamias and the owner reveals that they consider themselves like a sibling to the lamias as well.

You remember the day you walked into the Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and picked out your two precious lamias with fondness. You always enjoyed Underfell type monsters, and the moment you saw a King and a Coral together, you knew they’d be a perfect fit for you. You adopted the full-sized version because the bigger, the better right?

The huge King and smaller Coral settled in nicely. The Coral, with his smaller size and feisty temperament took on the role of a younger sibling, while the more sensible and responsible King took on the role of an older brother. They bantered, picked on each other, and generally acted like a fraternal pair. You just weren’t sure where you fit into that dynamic.

Sure, the two lamias obviously adored you, and they included you in their jokes, antics, and affectionate moment. You still wondered how they saw you though. Would they call you an owner? You couldn’t imagine ever owning another sentient creature. Would you be considered their handler? You didn’t really handle them either; they acted on their own volition. You definitely weren’t a parental figure. Without your King, you and your Coral would probably spend all of your time binge-watching TV and eating junk food.In your mind, you called them an older and younger brother. You referred to yourself as the fleshy, two-legged  middle child in the skeleton lamia family. Is that how they saw you though?

Defining the relationship didn’t matter nearly as much as living in it, so you decided to take your lamias on a trip into the city to see the sights. You rarely made the journey for yourself. Sightseeing and shopping weren’t as fun without someone to share the experience with. With a full-sized King to keep you safe, and a full-sized but totally portable Coral providing constant commentary, a day trip to the city oozed potential for fun and adventure.

A train took you into the heart of the city, and you wandered around the expansive station looking in all the little shops along the way to the subway system. You found a map, and after much pointing and good-natured argument, you figured out which platform you needed to go to. A moving sidewalk in the station provided some laughs as the two lamias attempted to slither in the wrong direction. Impatient glares from other travellers put a stop to the shenanigans.

With identical disgruntled scowls on your faces, the three of you walked (or slithered) properly to the waiting platform. People in the waiting area tried to hide their curious glances, but you could tell that your lamias were attracting some attention. Nobody bothered you though, and the train pulled up right on time, doors opening with a cheerful  _ding_.

The subway car you chose had plenty of unoccupied seats, including a trio of seats facing the door. Perfect! You and your two lamias had plenty of room and easy access to the exit when you arrived at your stop. You were right in the middle of discussing potential lunch destinations when a series of increasingly loud and pointed coughs interrupted your conversation.

Your words trailed off into silence as you turned to the man who’d been trying to get your attention. He gave you a condescending look that meant nothing but trouble.

“You can’t bring filthy animals like those on the train,” he sneered rudely, pointing to your lamias who sat, quiet and well-behaved, in their seats. Your Coral climbed into your lap, baring his teeth at the man’s unfriendly tone. Your King hissed indignantly.

“They are sentient beings with just as much right to be here as you, sir,” you said, showing him a great deal more respect than he’d addressed you with.

“Animals aren’t allowed on the subway,” he insisted, voice reaching shouting volume as he jabbed a stubby finger at you. You saw your Coral’s eyelights tracking the finger, preparing to deliver a nasty bite. Your King flared his hood threateningly. You had to diffuse this situation before it turned ugly.

You stood up, surprising the man and forcing him to back off slightly. Mimicking his earlier motions, you jabbed your finger right back at him.

“Listen here, pal,” you snapped, “The only thing I see here that shouldn’t be allowed on the subway is  _your_  bad attitude. My King and Coral aren’t bothering anyone, unlike you.” The man began to sputter, but you kept right on talking. “They’re like brothers to me, and if you have a problem with them, then you have a problem with me too, and if you’ve got a problem with me, then you’re just going to have to deal with it for five more stops because me and my family aren’t going anywhere!”

The man scowled, looking to the left and right for support from his fellow passengers, but the few other people in the train were nodding at your words. One man began to clap, and soon several others joined nim, applauding your defense of the lamias. The man slumped down in defeat, muttering about rules and kids these days. At the next stop, he quickly gathered his belongings and exited the train. You watched through the window as he hopped into another car further back.  _Good riddance_.

You exhaled, slow and measured as you calmed yourself after the confrontation. Checking on your lamias you saw them staring at you with wide sockets and tilted skulls. Before you could ask them what was wrong, they crushed you into hug, wrapping their coils around you.

“Ssssiblingsssss?” asked the Coral, eyelights bright with happiness. You laughed.

“Little brother,” you declared, touching your Coral’s chest. “Big brother,” you said, poking your King in the arm. His hood remained half-flared, and his cheeks showed a rosy blush.

“Ssssiblingssss,” agreed the King, squeezing you even tighter.

You could barely breath, but hey, what are brothers for, right?


	25. Fast Food Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: A Chain (Swapfell Papyrus lamia) attempts to woo his oblivious owner with food gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this drabble got away from me, but I couldn't tell the story properly with fewer words.

Some Chains spent a lifetime searching for the perfect owner, but this Chain lucked out early on in his life. As a very young adult, he’d spotted them in the shop, looking for a Chain to adopt. Other Chains told stories of how SOULs sang to them, but until that moment, he’d never understood just what it meant to find someone whose SOUL called out to your own. They’d taken him home that day, and he couldn’t have been happier.

He adored his owner as much as any Chain could. They were smart, kind, funny, everything he could ever want in… well… a bondmate. He was sure the crush wasn’t one-sided. His owner loved physical affection, and the first time he tentatively wrapped his tail around their ankle when they were snuggled in front of the TV, his owner had looked from his tail to his face and smiled their oh-so-beautiful smile at him. He hoped they didn’t notice the bright orange blush on his cheekbones.

All Chains have a habit of presenting their owner with pretty baubles and polished stones as a sign of their deep SOUL connection, but the Chain wanted to court his owner properly. Proper courtship required an intermediate step between tail-wrapping and impractical, sentimental gifts. A lamia had to show their potential bondmate that they were capable of providing for them. The Chain needed to hunt and bring his owner some suitable prey to show off his prowess.

The Chain spent the morning in the garden, stalking prey. He wanted to bring back something to dazzle his owner, something that would be difficult for them to catch for themselves. The big lamia had his sights set on a plump wild turkey. He watched the flock carefully, waiting for his moment to strike. He dispatched a large specimen quickly and cleanly and dragged it through the doggy door his owner had installed to allow him access to the outdoors.

They congratulated him on his hunting skills, admiring the size of the turkey and it’s lovely patterned feathers, but they hadn’t eaten it. They’d given it back to him. The rejection stung, but the Chain didn’t give up. Maybe his owner didn’t like poultry? Maybe the feathers were too much. Maybe they wanted something smaller and easier to swallow. The next morning he headed back out to the garden to find a more suitable meal.

After some consideration of the various small mammals that liked to scurry by and nibble the plants his owner so carefully cultivated, he decided that a nice plump rabbit would make an excellent meal. The rabbit was smaller than the turkey with a nice soft pelt and not a single spiky feather to be seen. Once again, he slithered through the doggy door, edible offering in hand.

He didn’t expect his owner to clutch the still-warm body and cry. They told him he did a great job catching the rabbit, but everything about their body language screamed sadness as they petted the rabbit’s fur before handing it back to him. Another rejection. Maybe the rabbit was too small?

The next morning, the Chain basked morosely on his favorite spot in the garden, trying to puzzle out what he’d done wrong. The only large animals in the immediate area were neighborhood dogs, and his owner had informed that dogs were not for eating on his first day home. He wondered if he could find a nice stream or river to fish in. Or insects, did humans eat insects? All of his owner’s meals came out of boxes or cans, so he had no idea what kind of animals they were.

A friendly chirp startled him out of his musings. The Honey Bo who lived next door slithered over to join him on the warm rock. They often soaked up the warmth together on sunny days, and the Honey Bo knew his friend well enough to sense that something was wrong today despite the bright gold sunlight. The Chain confided in his friend about his recent struggles with finding the perfect prey to woo his owner. The Honey Bo offered to show him where his owner preferred to get food from.

The Chain had reservations about going out of sight of the house, but the Honey Bo reassured him: “Not far. Be home soon,” and the duo set off down the street.

It didn’t take the two lamias long to reach their destination: a fast food chain restaurant. The Honey Bo pointed to the menu proudly, as if he’d designed it himself, but the Chain regarded it skeptically. He narrowed his sockets as he read the food descriptions next to the pictures. Was any of this even meat? He wouldn’t have believed humans ate such weird food if not for the crowd of people lined up in front of the counter.

Well, he couldn’t do worse than making his owner cry with a rabbit, so he and the Honey got into the line, patiently slithering forward as each person ordered and received their food. They progressed to the front of the line quickly, but once they were at the counter, the Chain was at a loss for what to order. Which menu item would win his owner’s heart? What were these food items anyway? A French fry? Wasn’t that a cooking method? Were the customers eating other humans from France?

The Honey Bo noticed his friend’s confusion, so he placed the order. “Number sssseven,” he hissed, pointing to the menu with his tail in case the employee had trouble understanding his raspy words.

“That’ll be $8.02,” the woman at the register informed them cheerfully. The Honey Bo turned expectantly to the Chain. The Chain patted his pockets. He knew he didn’t have any cash; his owner always took care of purchasing things. He did have a lovely raw amethyst though. He removed the translucent purple stone from his pocket and set it on the counter.

The woman gave the big lamia a sweet, sad smile. “That’s a really pretty amethyst you have there, but unfortunately, we can’t accept those as payment.” She appeared to honestly regret her words. The Chain sagged in defeat as he stuffed the stone back into his pocket. He’d never find the perfect gift for his owner now. The Honey Bo threw a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders and led him towards the exit, but a person behind them called out for them to wait.

“Were you buying your owner fast food as a courtship gesture?” the person asked them. The dejected Chain nodded, not understanding this strange human’s excitement. The Honey Bo hissed, worried that this person might be harassing or mocking the Chain, but the human took out their phone, tapped it a few times, and held it out to them.

There on the screen was a photo of the human and another full-sized Chain smiling as they took a selfie together. “My Chain brought me a turtle as a bonding gift,” the person explained, swiping to a new picture of the Chain proudly holding up a turtle. “The shell was too hard for him to bite through, so he gave it to me still alive. The turtle lives in our pond now, and we call him Sheldon.” More swiping, this time to photos of Sheldon the turtle.

The Chain viewed each picture with growing sadness. He’d never share such experiences with his owner. He’d failed to find anything even remotely as good as Sheldon. He sighed, snapping the human out of their happy memories.

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse. I actually wanted to help you out. I’d be more than happy to pay for whatever you want to order for your future bondmate.” The pall of defeat lifted from the Chain at those words, and he swept the human up into a tight hug.

The Honey Bo slithered back up to the counter and ordered once more, and the helpful human paid the cashier with a warm smile on their face. The woman at the cash register and several other fast food patrons cheered when another employee handed the bag of food to the Chain. The Chain wanted to cry, to thank everyone, to hug the kind human again, but he had acquired his gift. He wanted to deliver it to his owner hot and fresh. Only the best for them.

The Chain burst through the door, body wiggling in excitement, the neighbor’s Honey Bo tagging along behind to watch the scene unfold. The two lamias’ owners were sitting in the living room, conversing in low serious tones when their lamias showed up.

The Chain’s owner leapt from their seat, tackling him in a hug and crushing the bag of fast food he’d been holding out to them. Oh no!

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were giving me bonding gifts. I’m sorry I made you feel bad. Of course I accept your gifts. They’re perfect,” they babbled as the Chain gently enfolded them in the coils of his body for a comforting hug and soothing back rub.

Who cared if the food he’d worked so hard for got ruined? This, just holding his owner in his arms like this, this is what mattered.


	26. A Crime of Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Krait (Gaster lamia) snuggle pile.

You loved your weekly visits to the Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center. There was no better way to unwind after a long stressful week than to watch the Kraits swimming in their play pools. You tossed dive toys for them to fetch and distributed an allotment of friendly pets and scratches to each white and black banded lamia as they clamored for your affection and attention. And if a few of them snuck home with you every week? Well, that was just icing on the cake.

The Kraits splashing in the pool perked up the moment they saw you, recognizing you instantly as a very good friend, but as you hurried over to greet them after a long week away, you saw something different- a sign in front of the pool area. It read “Please leave your bags at the desk to avoid stowaways!” A roughly sketched drawing of a Krait tail protruding from a backpack accompanied the words. Obviously that sign did not apply to you; you loved stowaways!

You strolled right on up to the first pool and leaned over pat the little skulls of the Kraits lined up at the poolside. Unfortunately, the new policy on the sign was being enforced. A very large King lamia tapped your shoulder gently and pointed to the sign that you’d just ignored.

“Bag please,” he hissed. “Jacket too.” After you handed over your belongings, the King looked you up and down like you were some sort of Krait stealing delinquent, as if the Kraits didn’t come with you willingly!

Grumbling rebelliously, you seated yourself directly in the middle of the Krait play area and spread your arms out so that your little skeleton snake minions could swarm you with cuddles and cheer you up, which of course, they did! Nothing clears up a bad mood like the tiny nuzzles of dozens of happily chirping lamias.

After a satisfying Cuddle Puddle session with the Kraits, you were ready to head home, promising the pouty little lamias that you’d return at the same time next week. As you stepped out of the Krait area, you spotted another new sign. This one had “Please check your sleeves, pants legs, and pockets to prevent Krait theft!” written on it in all capital letters. You scoffed, not intending to check any of those things  _at all **ever**_.

Once again, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The self-appointed pool area bouncer reared up behind you, arms crossed over his ribcage, glaring at you for not checking you sleeves, pants legs, and pockets. You sighed and rolled your eyes, making a big overly dramatic show of turning out your pockets and patting down your pants legs and sleeves for the suspicious King. Once he was satisfied that you weren’t kidnapping Kraits left and right, he slithered away to accost other visitors (you assumed).

“What ridiculous new rules!” you complained as you exited the shop. The Krait hiding in your sock chirped his agreement.


	27. A Fair Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Twin Mambas (Swapfell Sans lamia) doing an amorous display for a Pygmy (Underswap Sans lamia).

The Mamba lamia twins shared everything. They’d shared an egg when they’d been mere soullings, and they’d never stopped sharing since. Toys, food, even attention were always split equally between the two identical lamias. They even had the same taste in mates, and their deep purple eyelights currently rested on the object of their joined affections- a handsome Pygmy lamia.

The Pygmy bitty matched the Mamba twins perfectly in size, and his shimmering blue-green scales offset theirs perfectly. The two Mambas bided their time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to ambush the Pygmy for a once-in-lifetime synchronized display.

The Pygmy basked, innocent and unsuspecting, under a heat lamp in a secluded corner of the shop. The Mambas slithered stealthily forward. The took up positions directly in front of the Pygmy, and once they exchanged a quick nod, they hissed loudly to awaken him. Blinking his sockets drowsily, the Pygmy watched as the Mambas began their display.

Iridescent royal purple bodies swayed, moving back and forth in tandem. The Mambas entwined their matching bodies together and parted ways to strike identical poses under the Pygmy’s admiring gaze. The two Mambas writhed and twisted, edging gradually closer to the Pygmy with every elegant movement until they were brushing the lengths of their bodies against his.

Two lamia lovers meant twice the fun, and when the Pygmy finally blushed and joined them in their seductive dance, they leered, eager to get to business.

* * *

The Pygmy smirked at his two exhausted mates. He’d kept them up all night before they’d finally succumbed to his endless energy. He idly wondered if the twin Mambas would bear him equal sized clutches.


	28. A Friendly Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: A King (Underfell Papyrus lamia) reminds his handler to eat.

You laid in your bed as the hours passed you by. Morning melted into afternoon, and another evening was fast approaching. Some days you just didn’t have the energy or motivation to get out of bed. What was the point? Tomorrow would just be more of the same thing. Nothing ever changed. Well, that used to be true anyway.

A few weeks ago you’d had a few good days right in a row. During your upswing, you’d decided to adopt a bittybones companion. A tiny skeleton, maybe even one of those fancy lamias, would help brighten up the choking darkness that sometimes seemed to lurk in every corner. Instead of a tiny skeleton snake, however, you’d adopted a full-sized lamia called a King.

The door to your room protested as it slowly opened, the hinges squeaking in dismay at being used. Your KIng peered into your room, red eyelights gleaming in the darkness. He turned on the light, and you hissed, ducking under your blankets. You couldn’t hide from the massive lamia though. He lifted the blankets, exposing you to the bright light and cold air of your room.

“No medicine? No food? No water?” the King asked you accusingly. He held out your bottle of medication and a glass of water. You accepted them with a grumble, but took the pills and drained the glass. The King watched you with his arms folded across his chest, making sure you drank every last drop of water.

“I just can’t get up today,” you explain to the lamia. He nods in understanding. “It’s just… a bad day.” Once again, he nods.

“Some days better than others,” the King concedes. “Why you not eat?”

You refuse to meet the King’s eyes. It’s so hard to explain yourself sometimes. How can you make him understand something he’s never felt before, never struggled with and failed at? “I didn’t think about it,” you explain. “If I don’t remind myself, things get away from me.” You sigh, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes. “What have I even done today to deserve to eat? I’ve just laid here and done nothing.”

You feel the mattress sinking under the King’s weight as he climbs into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his lap, gently patting your head. It’s surprisingly comforting to have a creature that’s often considered to be a pet actually petting you.

“What did you do to not deserve food?” the King points out. “Not bad. Don’t punish yourself. Is ok to have bad day. Is ok to do nothing sometimes. Must eat. Take medicine. Hydrate!” You can’t help smiling. Sometimes just having someone else to care about you makes things seem a little less hopeless.

“I don’t really feel up to making food,” you admit.

“I will cook,” declares your King. “I cook, you eat! Agree?”

The thought of a home-cooked meal reminds your stomach how empty it has been all day.

“It’s a deal.”


	29. It Starts at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: A Mamba (Swapfell Sans lamia) unintentionally bullying his shy, timid teenage owner.

Every weekday, the Mamba’s teenaged owner came home from school looking stressed out and exhausted. They would greet him, then go to the fridge to make a sandwich for them both to share. The Mamba always supervised the sandwich-making; if he didn’t, his owner put strawberry jelly on the sandwich. The Mamba preferred grape jelly. Something about the rich purple color appealed to him.

One day, his painfully shy owner brought home another student from school to work on a project together. The other human had a Papython, and the Mamba’s owner suggested that they play together. The Papython bounced with joy at meeting a new friend, but the Mamba was reluctant. He glared at the Papython while his owner gathered the ingredients for their after school sandwich, almost missing the strawberry jelly set out on the counter.

“The Vile and Venomous Mamba does not need playdates arranged for him,” he hissed loftily at the Papython and his owner. Turning to his own teenaged human, he spotted the strawberry jelly already being spread onto a slice of bread. “Grape!” he snapped indignantly, not realizing that his owner’s hands were already trembling from nervousness at having another person in their home.

The knife clattered to the counter, and the Mamba’s owner fled, dashing upstairs to their room to hide behind a closed and locked door. The other teenager stood in the awkward silence of the kitchen, unsure whether they should leave or wait.

The Papython whirled and faced the Mamba, hands propped on his tail where the hipbones would’ve been on a regular skeleton. “How could you treat your owner like that?” He hissed in outrage.

“You have no idea how I treat my owner!” retorted the Mamba.

The Papython’s skull tilted slightly, and his bony brows rose in surprise as the startling truth dawned on him.

“You don’t know them at all, do you?” the Papython asked with a pitying expression. “Maybe you should ask them why they need to come straight home and eat a sandwich every day. Maybe you should ask them what kind of jelly is their favorite.”

The Mamba vibrated with raw fury. Fortunately for the Papython, his owner decided it would be better to leave. That foolish human probably though their hisses and chirps were a friendly conversation and didn’t even know how close their precious Papython had come to receiving a nasty bite. The other lamia’s words made him think though. He decided to go upstairs and check on his owner.

The timid teenager sat on the floor next to their bed, forehead resting on their knees as they quietly cried. He’d only asked for grape jelly. Why would they cry over that? How stupid! The teen noticed him watching, and they quickly sniffled and wiped away their tears. With a sigh, the Mamba dragged a box of tissues over to them and waited until they dried their tears and blew their nose to speak.

“Why you make sandwich after school?” No point in beating around the bush. The Mamba had to know what the Papython was talking about.

His owner heistated. “Well… it’s just… there are some guys… at school… and sometimes… well… they take my lunch,” they finally admitted.

The Mamba’s jaw nearly dropped right off of his face. How dare these other humans take his owner’s lunch! “Why you not stop them?” he asked, imagining all kinds of scenarios that involved biting or punching the bullies.

“There’s no point. It’s easier to just let them do it.” The teen shrugged listlessly as if it were simply a fact of life to have one’s food stolen.

The Mamba narrowed his sockets. He had an inkling where this conversation was headed. His owner was shy. His owner was timid; they never stood up for themselves… even to him, it seemed. “Tell me truth?” he ventured.

“Always,” they promised.

“What kind of jelly you like?”

His owner refused to meet his eyelights. The Papython had been right! “Oh, I like any kind really…”

“Truth!” insisted the Mamba.

At first the Mamba thought they weren’t going to answer, but after a long, long pause, they blurted out “I really don’t like grape! Strawberry is my favorite!”

The Mamba nodded. “Go make sandwich. Strawberry jelly this time. No grape!” It was the shy teenagers turn to nod.

A Mamba couldn’t be truly strong and proud without an owner who could be strong and proud as well. It would be his duty from now on to help his owner develop the confidence they deserved to have as a Mamba owner! Today, they started with jelly choices; tomorrow he planned to go to school with his owner to let those bully kids know that his owner’s lunch was off-limits!

Nobody would ever treat his owner poorly again if he could help it. Not their classmates, and certainly not their lamia!


	30. The Wrong House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: A full-sized King (Underfell Papyrus lamia) bitty's shy owner is threatened.

The King laid in his owner’s bed, curled protectively around them. He’d seen how shy and nervous they were the day they entered the Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center looking for a companion, and he’d been their loyal protector ever since. He accompanied them on their daily activities, and nestled snugly against them every night. His large size- 13 feet from the top of his skull to the tip of his tail actually made them feel safe.

The King slept soundly until a noise, just a slight out of place sound, awakened him. He lifted his head from his pillow and listened intently. There! He heard it again, the sound of someone moving around in their home! Nobody lived in the house except the King and his owner, and anyone showing up unannounced inside the house at this time of night could only be up to no good.

The King shifted, carefully disentangling his body from his owner’s as he concentrated on the direction of the shuffling and scraping. The intruder was in the living room; he was sure of it. With all of his senses focused on locating the danger, he didn’t notice his owner slowly waking up as well. They patted around the mattress, searching for his reassuring form next to them.

The King slowly rested his hand on his owner’s lower back. “I hear something,” they whispered in a frightened voice.

The huge lamia gently shushed them. “Sssstay here,” he ordered quietly, slipping off of the bed to confront the intruder in their living room. Once he slithered through the bedroom door, he could see the beam of a flashlight spilling over into the hallway. He had to keep them away from the bedroom and his owner.

The King rounded the corner into the living room, and the piercing artificial light swept up his body from his tail to his torso to his face. Once he held the spotlight, the King reared back, flared his hood, and hissed in such a deep, rough tone that it sounded more like a growl. The would-be burglar dropped their flashlight, and shadows swallowed the residence.

Lamias can see in the dark, giving the King an advantage. Blocking the hallway that led to the bedroom, the King struck with his jaws and lashed with his tail being careful not to actually bite or hit the human. He wanted the intruder to feel how close he was and how dangerous he could be, and his message came across loud and clear. The burglar fled through the window they’d pried open.

A light came on behind the King. His owner stood behind him in the hallway, holding an old baseball bat in badly trembling hands. “I called the police!” they shouted, trying to startle the burglar, not knowing that their King had already driven the threat away.

The lamia in question gently took the baseball from his terrified but determined owner. “All gone. Ssssafe now.” His owner collapsed against his powerful body, and the King wrapped himself protectively around them. He rubbed their shaking shoulders with his hands and wiped their tears with the tip of his tail, murmuring words of comfort the entire time.

The intruder had been lucky to escape with his life. As reluctant as he was to take a human life, the King wouldn’t hesitate if it meant keeping his owner safe. The person had been wise to flee, but if they ever dared to return, the King would be there watching, waiting, and defending his owner from any threats with whatever force he deemed necessary.


	31. A Suitable Sidekick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: An Edgy and Cherry bittybones learn to be friends

Life couldn’t be better for an Edgy bitty such as himself. He had full run of the house, and his owner spoiled him rotten. He chewed what he wanted when he wanted. He knocked things over without consequence. He made messes left and right (and upside down!). He bit the hand that fed sometimes too, but most importantly, he called the shots.

Imagine his surprise when his owner came home with one of those Runty bittybones- a Cherry! Who was his owner kidding, bringing that weak, pitiful version of himself home with a proud smile on their face like they were giving him some sort of amazing present?

“Say hello to your new little brother,” his owner simpered. Not likely. The Edgy stomped over to the Cherry and shoved him. The Cherry wailed, and their owner scooped him up to comfort him. “Shame on you, Edgy! He’s sensitive,” they scolded before leaving the room, Cherry bitty still cradled in their hands.

_What the actual fuck?!_  Was his owner replacing him with that whiny little shit? He couldn’t believe it! The Edgy raged, breaking his bitty furniture, kicking over any nearby item that his owner might value. He tired himself out gnawing at the human-sized furniture while he waited for them to return and tell him that this was some kind of pathetic joke.

Why would they want a Cherry? Didn’t they love him? He fumed, stomping around the room before curling up in the debris of his bitty home and falling into a fitful sleep. He woke up a few hours later to the sound of gentle sobbing. Cracking one socket open, he grumbled.  _Fucking Cherry_ , waking him up. He tried to ignore the noise, but it went on and on  _and on_. He got up, planning to give the Cherry a piece of his mind.

The Cherry sat in the farthest corner of the bitty house with his back to the Edgy. “hey, you!” the Edgy shouted in his harsh, growly voice. “keep it down, will ya?”

The Cherry sniffled. “i’m s-sorry,” he cried in a tremulous tone. “i’m s-so s-sorry. i d-didn’t m-mean to be adopted. i’m s-sure i’ll be r-returned t-tomorrow.” The little shrimp could barely get a single word out without stuttering… and he looked so forlorn and frightened…  _dammit_.

“aww, c’mon. they’re not gonna return ya.” The Edgy gave the Cherry an awkward “there, there” and a pat on the shoulder.

“b-but you h-hate meeeee,” the Cherry wailed with a fresh flood of tears. Edgy was starting to feel terrible for his earlier behavior. He shifted his weight from foot to foot guiltily before responding.

“nah, i don’t hate ya.” The Cherry’s eyelights glimmered with hope at the words. “yer too handsome to hate.”

“b-but i look just like you.”

“exactly.” The Cherry let out a watery chuckle. Huh, at least the pipsqueak had a decent sense of humor. Maybe he could train this pale imitation of himself into a suitable sidekick…

* * *

The next morning the bittybones owner approached the bitty house, worried about the condition of the Cherry’s anxiety after spending a night with a jealous, tantrum-throwing Edgy. The Cherry seemed to be doing just fine, however. The Edgy held the Cherry close to his chest with his chin resting on top of the smaller bitty’s skull while the Cherry slept soundly in his protective brother’s embrace.


	32. Good Monster, Bad Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Cursed Time Kid OC meeting a Honey Bo (Underswap Papyrus lamia). Gigi is the sister of Sans and Papyrus in the Cursed TK timeline by perfectshadow06 on Tumblr. She has the same curse as TK, but in her left eye.

Gigi sat in the shade by the creek, enjoying the sound of flowing water and some time away from her brothers, Sans and Papyrus. This peaceful, secluded spot was a favorite of hers, a place she went to forget about the stress of her curse and the dire possibilities for the future if a cure couldn’t be found.

The sound of cruel laughter interrupted her thoughts. The laughs sounded like children, but Gigi knew firsthand just how unkind children could be. Curious and concerned, she followed the sound to a nearby clearing. Peeking through the foliage, Gigi spotted three young rabbit monsters throwing rocks at a turtle and shrieking about smashing it.

_Unacceptable._

“Leave that turtle alone,” demanded Gigi, running towards the rabbit monsters. Righteous anger unfurled in her SOUL, and it awakened the curse hiding in her eye. She gasped, clawing at her face. It burned!

The rabbit monsters dropped their rocks when they saw her. “It’s the freak!” one of them shouted, pointing at her. The rest of them began to jeer, chanting “Freak! Freak! Freak!” and circling the young skeleton monster. Now that the other monsters had turned their violent attention on her, Gigi felt threatened, and the curse within her fought to get free.

Gigi uncovered her eye, letting the true nature of her inner darkness show to her enemies. They screamed and fled, and Gigi staggered away, back to her quiet place. She struggled to subdue the curse and succeeded- this time. What would happen if it escaped her control? What if it consumed her until there was nothing left?

Gigi began to sob.

The Honey Bo saw everything from his nest under a nearby rock. He’d seen the rabbit monsters fish the turtle out of the creek to torment it, and he’d watched as Gigi came to its rescue. The perceptive lamia hadn’t missed that brief flash of Gigi’s curse either, and now he slithered forward, unable to stand by while the young skeleton was in such distress.

A small skeletal hand patted Gigi’s shoulder, and she sniffled trying to regain her composure. “No cry,” comforted the Honey Bo. “Did good. Very brave.” Unfortunately his words prompted a fresh flood of tears from Gigi’s sockets.

“I’m not,” she cried. “Didn’t you hear them? I’m a freak. I’m cursed!” She turned her eye, filled with swirling darkness, towards the lamia. The lamia blinked, but showed no other reaction.

“You have curse, but curse not who you  _are_.” This time the Honey Bo’s words hit home, and Gigi pulled the lamia into a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I really needed to hear that.”


	33. His True Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested: Underfell Dadster fluff... but then this happened.

Asgore’s weekly visits to the Laboratory were always cause for concern. The Royal Scientist bore the brunt of the King’s intense interrogations, but W.D. Gaster’s followers rarely escaped the King’s scathing inquiries. Sometimes the King’s wrath could be appeased with reports of progress on the study of human SOULs or continuing improvements on the CORE, but some days the King’s rage boiled over into violence. Workers disappeared, and nobody dared to mention it.

Today Gaster had nothing to report except his recent failures, failures that had already cost the lives of numerous monsters and would likely be the cause of several more once the King discovered his shortcomings. Gaster himself was indispensable, but his latest crop of assistants would be prime targets. How did Asgore expect him to get anything done when his scientists kept meeting mysterious and tragic ends?

Only one thing kept the Royal Scientist going. Well, two things to be exact. W. D. Gaster’s sons were his best kept secret and his only source of solace. The two babybones were getting so big now, and as much as they squabbled and fought (like any siblings), they loved each other dearly. Sans, the older brother, preferred not to exert himself, but Papyrus, the younger sibling, possessed boundless energy. Gaster smiled. If he never accomplished anything else in his career, his sons would still make his life an overall success.

The King and the Royal Scientist strolled along a narrow catwalk overlooking the CORE as he reminisced about his sons and made plans for when he arrived home that night. The King’s mood had darkened considerably at Gaster’s lack of breakthroughs, and the sound of the two monsters’ footsteps echoed in a sinister staccato beat in the huge cavern. The glow of the CORE below them set macabre dancing shadows dancing across their grim faces.

“Gaster,” growled Asgore, coming to a halt at a portion of the walkway that was still under construction, “how long have you been my Royal Scientist?”

“For years, your Majesty,” replied Gaster quickly, wondering where the questions would lead him this time. Asgore sounded tired, but it was never wise to let one’s guard down around the mad monarch.

“Yet in all your years of service, all you’ve provided me with is a location to dispose of my disappointments,” Asgore mused.

“Your Majesty?” W. D. Gaster began to sweat as Asgore placed a heavy paw upon his shoulder. His magic crawled with foreboding.

“You’ve become a disappointment to me, Dr. Gaster,” Asgore explained as he shoved his former Royal Scientist into the CORE.

Gaster only had a fleeting moment to hope that his boys could survive in the kill or be killed world of Underfell without him.


	34. A Dark and Rainy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by Syrus here on AO3: A King argues with his owner who wants to go night driving. The owner storms off, but later there is hugging and apologizing.

The night was unforgivingly dark. Clouds obscured the light of the moon and the stars, and even the shadows cast deeper shadows in the eerie stillness, broken only by frustrated shouting.

“I know how to drive!” a young adult human shouted belligerently to the full-sized King lamia next to them. “Now give me back my keys!”

The stoic lamia refused to return the keys until he’d pleaded his case. “Issss dark. Foggy. Driving conditionssss are dangeroussss. I do not want you to be hurt,” he cajoled, trying to convince his owner to stay home instead of driving out in the middle of the night to visit a friend in the treacherous darkness.

A light rain sprinkled the road, increasing the risk of accidents. The fog that rose from the surrounding countryside to creep across the pavement in the long stretches with no streetlights reduced visibility to alarming levels, even to a lamia who could see in the dark.

“I know what I’m doing,” his owner insisted.

“I worry,” countered the King.

“You can’t control me. I’m the owner, not you. I say what goes. Give me my keys!” They held their hand out expectantly, and the King set down the keys with a forlorn jingle. He watched with a look of sadness on his angular features as his owner drove away, and the darkness swallowed their car with disheartening finality.

* * *

Twenty minutes later the home phone rang, and the King answered, wondering if his owner was checking in to let him know they were ok. A stranger’s voice informed him that his owner had been in an accident, and as soon as the speaker revealed his owner’s location, the King slithered off as fast as he could move, leaving the phone discarded on the floor and the caller saying “Hello, hello?” to empty air.

The front end of the car rested against a tree, crumpled up like a piece of paper by the unyielding tree trunk. Smoke rose in lazy wisps from the wreckage, intermittently lit by the flashing lights of police vehicles, a fire truck, and an ambulance. The panicked King pushed surprised emergency responders aside until he saw them, his owner, sitting on the ground, shivering, with a blanket wrapped around them.

The huge lamia immediately grabbed his owner, hugging them tightly after quickly checking them for injuries. He squeezed them so hard that they squeaked. They apologized over and over, telling him they were sorry for leaving, sorry for their earlier words, sorry for worrying him, but he shushed them firmly.

“You are ok. Is all that matterssss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally finished the March Drabble requests (and only a month late!). I would like to thank everyone who sent in prompts of course everyone who read along through the fluff, smut, a touch of angst!


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